Merlin: The Loneliest Hour
by HighEmpress
Summary: A plan to end all magic goes very wrong and Merlin pays the ultimate price. How will Arthur react to his magic now that he's gone? Can Merlin return from the dead and defeat Morgana? Inspired by S4. No slash. Reviews are gold!
1. Merlin kills a beast

In which Gwaine is suspicious. Lancelot is protective. Gaius is the sorcerer. Hunith has a secret. Merlin gets hurts; _twice_. Freya returns. Morgana is evil. Arthur is not too much of a _prat_ anymore. And Agravaine has a plan to end all magic. No slash. Season 4.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own BBC's _Merlin_.

**Author's note**: I want to apologise for not making a sequel to _Dawn of the Dragonlord_. I guess I read too many spoilers and got carried away. If some of this story comes true in Season 4, then I will be deeply honoured, but please don't sue.

Enjoy.

**THE LONELIEST HOUR**

**Chapter One: In which Merlin and Lancelot are secretly protecting Camelot**

Merlin fell on his knees, panting. The enormous two-headed beast lying in front of him was slowly dying and the young warlock could not bear to look at it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the ground, waiting for the creature's final breath. The pool of blood underneath the monster was steadily growing. The brown fur was dark and wet on the spot where the spell had hit it. The effort of killing the beast had been quite substantial yet Merlin felt no pride, only a deep sadness. The air around him was stirring with old and powerful magic and in his head he could almost hear a painful moaning. As the creature let out a last growl of pain, its front leg unfolded and reached out towards him with three curved black claws. He saw them as though in slow motion; one claw reaching out further than the other two. It wanted to grab him, and for a moment he was going to let it. Why shouldn't he? He had killed another one of his kind. It was only natural that it was looking for revenge. How many of this creature's brothers had he killed in the last year alone? When had it been decided that his destiny would include blood on his hand?

"Merlin, what are you doing?" cried out a familiar voice that was close to him.

Suddenly, Lancelot was before him, his long sword aiming to cut the creature's claws.

"No, Lancelot!" Merlin said forcefully.

He grabbed the knight's forearm before it could strike. Just then, the beast let out a long last sigh and stopped moving altogether.

Lancelot glanced down at him. His face was full of questions and concern.

"There was no need for that," said the young warlock.

"And what about you?"

Merlin merely shrugged, mumbling a barely audible "I'm fine" as he struggled to his feet. He felt so drained and exhausted that he had to lean on Lancelot for support.

"You don't look fine to me, " said the knight.

He did not like to be scrutinised. Gaius was doing enough of that already. Everytime he came back late or bruised or covered in mud (or worse), the old physician had a look on his face that strangely reminded Merlin of his mother. It always came as a surprise that someone could be so unequivocally supporting, yet worried beyond measure, all at once. The result was invariably a pat on the back, an awful-tasting tonic, bandages when necessary, and a few hours of troubled sleep. Perhaps he wouldn't be so tired if he didn't have those nasty nightmares every time he closed his eyes.

"Still can't sleep?" asked Lancelot as they started to walk out of the forest.

"No," said Merlin. He was avoiding glancing too much at Lancelot's concerned face.

The sky was of that white color just before rain high above their heads. The forest was thick with green trees, but also wet and chilly. Merlin could feel the wind blow right through him. It would be so easy for him to conjure a small flame in the palm of his hand, just to keep warm; yet he couldn't. Sometimes he had that strange feeling as though his magic did not really belong to him, that it had fallen upon his shoulders, quite by chance, to be a burden but nothing more. It could be used to protect Arthur, but for no one else, not even himself.

This was the reason why he hadn't been able to save her. _Freya_. But that wasn't really accurate. He had possessed the power to save her, he just had not _dared_ to, for fear that her curse might hurt Arthur in the end and fear that the dark magic around her would somehow bring Camelot's downfall, or _his_. How could he have been so _stupid __and__ selfish_? It had been a year since he had seen her face in the water of the cave, and he had missed her every day ever since.

"They're getting strangely accurate, aren't they, your dreams?"

Merlin replied nothing. Instead, he turned back and erased their footprints with a quick spell and secretly wishing that his dark thoughts could vanish just as easily.

It was becoming almost a routine for him and Lancelot to sneak out of the city walls together and cover their trails on the way back so that when some creature of magic was discovered dead, nobody could link the event to their absences. At first, Lancelot had followed unbeknownst to Merlin. Later, he had admitted that it was only because he couldn't bare the look on Arthur's face if Merlin did not return. In truth, however, Merlin was glad for the company. He found those special hunting trips hard on his nerves. Killing a creature of magic always brought back into his face the fact that he was actually one of them; but he wasn't, not really. He wasn't a knight either. He wasn't a physician, or even an apprentice; Gaius had not shared his plans about that with him yet. He was barely managing being a servant, and being a sorcerer would only get him burned at the stake. So what was he really?

"I'm not a seer," he said to Lancelot, rather more sharply than he had intended.

"What does your dragon say?"

Merlin couldn't help letting out a long sigh. "I don't know why I keep going to him with this question because he only makes it more confusing." He did his best to take Kilgharrah's low rumbling voice and meaningful stare. "_It is unclear whether or not you have the gift, Merlin_. _What is clear is that the darkness is gathering around Camelot and the world of Albion needs you to be exactly where you are now_. Honestly, I've grown so tired of this speech about my great destiny that I actually prefer listening to Gaius snore, or Arthur giving a speech."

Lancelot did not seem satisfied with the dragon's answer either. It had not escaped his notice that they were running into dark and dangerous creatures more and more often. The random occurrences were becoming a weekly exercise, even forcing Merlin to neglect his servant duties. The young sorcerer was stretching his magic to the limit of his abilities and he knew it. He wasn't worried that his magic would fail him; in fact, it was quite the contrary. When he was lying awake at night, it was to allow his mind to ponder on how powerful his magic was becoming. Kilgharrah had been elusive on that matter as well with a comment about how he should broaden his mind and condition himself to _feel_ rather than think. Awkwardly enough, Gaius was training him to do exactly the opposite: to think about his actions first, and then trust his knowledge and judgement. The more he thought about it and the more it seemed that being a sorcerer and being a physician could not be compatible. How, then, had Gaius _ever_ managed it?

"What about that gathering darkness? What do you think it means?" Lancelot asked again.

"I'm not sure." An evil thought crossed his mind and his lip turned into a smirk. "Maybe some dark creature is going to eat Agravaine up?"

Any other knight, except perhaps Gwaine, would have sent him to the dungeons for saying that, but Lancelot merely joined in with a wide grin; or perhaps he was just glad to see a change in his friend's mood.

"You don't like him much, do you?"

Merlin smiled mischievously. "How could you tell?"

"Maybe it was in the way you made his goblet spill when he said that Arthur was too young and naive to rule; or maybe how you made him fall into a puddle of mud on his first day of training with the knights; or how his cloak got caught up in the straps of his saddle."

Merlin was glad that Lancelot's tone was conspiring otherwise he could be in trouble, especially with Gaius. Maybe his magic was a little bit _his_ after all.

"Honestly, the cloak, it wasn't me, I swear it."

"Don't get me wrong, I think he's an arrogant fool." Lancelot's opinion of Agravaine had been settled immediately after the new knight had called Gwen an _average maid_.

"But, Merlin, aren't you taking a lot of risk just to make his life more difficult than it already is?"

"_His_ life? What about _mine_? I imagine it must have been very _difficult_ for him, growing up in such _poor_ conditions," Merlin said sarcastically.

"You're mistaking Agravaine for Arthur," Lancelot said wisely.

Merlin merely snorted. "But they grew up in the same way, didn't they? Arthur became a _prat_ and Agravaine became a _prat's_ uncle. Arthur is growing out of it, but Agravaine treats everyone like dirt, unless they're of noble birth. Arthur never makes me feel like a servant except when his uncle is around and now that I think of it, he's _always_ around. It's like I've suddenly become invisible. All he says to me now is 'fetch this _Merlin'_, 'clean that _Merlin'_, and 'get out of the way _Merlin'_. I have to admit that I even miss having things thrown at me. So I guess I'm compensating by pestering Lord Uncle _Prat_. In any case, what's life without a little risk?"

Lancelot threw him a sceptical look. "Aren't you taking enough risk as it is?"

Merlin took a moment to stare at the outline of the castle as it appeared before them at the edge of the forest.

"It's all supposed to be worth it, isn't it, in the end?" he commented, more to himself than for Lancelot.

And then, an afterthought hit him. He hadn't confessed it to anyone, not even to Gaius, but Lancelot was there now and he had been a true friend so far. He had proven beyond doubt that he could be trusted. He had even accepted to tell a few lies to protect his secret, and that was more than anyone had ever done for him.

"What is it?" Lancelot asked in a low tone, grabbing Merlin's arm as they were going to exit the forest.

"My magic," said Merlin. "It's becoming harder and harder not to use it. It's like... I don't know... it's like it's growing, and it's taking more energy to keep it under control. But what if I fail? What if I loose control?"

Lancelot pressed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You won't. You're the bravest man I know."

Merlin smiled. "Brave enough arrive this filthy to Arthur's diner with Agravaine?"

"Maybe not that brave," agreed Lancelot with a grin.

And then Merlin took off at a run.


	2. Agravaine has a plan

**Chapter Two: In which Agravaine has a plan**

Now that Arthur was regent, his food had to be tasted. It was a particular protocol according to which, as Arthur's manservant, _Merlin_ was now responsible for the tasting. It was a tedious process which had to be done under strict supervision and, though the idea had seemed enjoyable at first, Merlin had come to hate it more than any other duties. His loathing for the new protocol had nothing to do with the fact that the rules required him to put his life at risk on a regular basis, three times a day. There had also been, to Merlin's great discouragement, no possibility for food-related humor in Arthur's plate. The terrible truth was, in fact, that Sir Leon was overseeing the tasting, which meant that Merlin would _never_ get to play any kind of prank on the Heir to the Throne. _Ever_. There was just no getting around Sir Leon, especially as far as Arthur's security was concerned.

"What on Earth took you so long?" said the knight, glaring at him, as soon as he crossed the threshold.

Merlin could only mumble a feeble "sorry" as he began his tasting routine. At least, he had managed to get to the kitchen washed and on time, which was more than he's been able to do in the last few weeks.

On top of Sir Leon's glare, the amount of food on the long wooden table was making him uncomfortable. The few servants still working in the kitchen were eyeing the small banquet with relish. Most of them were about to go home to a small loaf of bread and a piece of cheese. Vegetables, fruits and meat were only purchased if a little money could be spared; such was the challenge of living in the city. The harvest had not been particularly fruitful this year and food, though available for everyone, was a highly valuable good, even for the kingdom's rulers. Merlin suddenly missed the opened fields of Ealdor, picking berries in the summer and cooking freshly caught fish on a wood fire.

"Do they really need that much? I thought it was going to be only Arthur and Agravaine," said Merlin while taking a bite off a loaf of bread and then moving on to taste the wine.

The look of disapproval on Sir Leon's face was barely noticeable, merely a passing thing, and Merlin pretended not to see it. It might have been a trivial reaction; however, Merlin had seen that look many times before since Agrainve's arrival. First, there had been the chambers to redecorate, the furniture to change, the daily training schedule to be rearranged and the servants to be reassigned. Nothing could escape Arthur's uncle's notice, not even the closeness between the prince and Gwen who was looking after the king as her only duty; but Gwen was so humble and discreet in her demeanor that Agravaine had been unable to do anything to remove her from her position in the royal household. There had even been a mention of finding a new manservant for the regent, or even _several_ new servants, but Arthur had rapidly and strongly spoken against such a change and Merlin had heard no more of it. It was not uncommon now, at the end of the day, to hear Arthur grumble and complain about his uncle's attitude, but Merlin knew the prince well enough and he could only grin at the thought of that moment when Arthur would put Agravaine back in his place.

"Lord Agravaine's demands are in accordance to his status as the king's brother-in-law and Arthur's uncle." Leon 's tone was formal. "It would be wise for you to remember your place in his presence."

"Why?" Merlin asked absent-mindedly as he took a bite off an apple.

"Because he has the authority to make you spend a few days in the stocks. Hey! You're supposed to cut yourself a piece, not bite off it!" burst out Leon , outraged. "Start again!"

He snatched the apple from his hand rather sharply, which slightly startled Merlin, and it also brought to light something that he had not noticed on Leon's right hand and wrist. Under a crude and dirty rag, there was the trace of fresh red blood.

"What is that, Leon? You should have that looked at," said Merlin with a bit of concern.

The knight rapidly withdrew his hand as if to put it out of sight. He was looking away and avoiding Merlin's eyes. The young men could hardly believe it; was Leon actually trying to hide something?

"What happened?" said Merlin, stepping closer so that the few servants bustling around the kitchen would not hear.

"We had a bit of a brawl."

"_We_?"

The knight fell silent for a moment, and then quite suddenly he pulled Merlin into a darker corner of the kitchen. When he spoke, his voice was tense.

"I _know_," he said into Merlin's ear.

_Don't panic; or don't_ appear _panicked_, thought the young warlock instantly.

"What exactly?"

"There's a rumor saying that there's a sorcerer in Camelot, a sorcerer who defeated the Immortal Army."

Merlin could almost hear his heart pounding. Could Sir Leon really know? How could that be possible?

"I _know_ it's Gaius."

Merlin's mind took a few seconds to register the information, and then he shook his head feverishly. "No, it was Lancelot!" he almost shouted. "Gaius had nothing to do..."

Leon glanced around to make sure they were not being overheard.

"It _was_ Gaius," he said categorically. "I know that he has magic and you must know about it too. He was a powerful healer before the purges, and such power doesn't just disappear overnight. But Gwaine was so drunk... He kept going on and on about a sorcerer in Camelot and I had to punch him to make him shut up."

"Hence the brawl," Merlin said thoughtfully.

Leon nodded. "The rumor is spreading. If Morgana is anywhere near Camelot, she will know about it."

Merlin allowed the thought to sink in. There was no doubt that revenge was on Morgana's list of things to do. Yet Morgana had not seen Gaius knock Morgause into the wall, nor had she seen Merlin empty the Cup of Life. She would be only chasing a rumor. But Morgause might have recovered, and if it was the case, then Gaius was undoubtedly in danger.

"I will warn Gaius," Merlin said quietly.

Leon abruptly caught hold of his arm. "You must do more than that. You must tell _Arthur_. Uther can no longer protect Gaius. If Agravaine finds out, he will have him killed without a second thought. We must trust to Arthur to make the right decision when the time comes. And Arthur trusts _you_. It falls on your shoulders to protect Gaius from now on. Can you do that, Merlin?"

Merlin suddenly felt a great bubble of pride build up inside his chest. It was too much to ask for. To think that Sir Leon, a man of honor, a man to be respected, would actually protect someone like him; it was as if all of his daydreams about revealing his magic had come true. Moreover, it showed a loyalty to Gaius that was very touching.

Quite at a lost for words, he nodded to Leon and then he made his way back towards the long table where he started to prepare his tray of bread, butter and two goblets of wine. He took another bite off the dismissed apple but it was only to hide his large grin. Sir Leon was eyeing him in silence, but he seemed quite at peace with the task he had just imposed on the servant.

Merlin picked up the tray unceremoniously. "You should get Gaius to take a look at that cut," he said, still smiling, as he paused by the kitchen door.

Sir Leon nodded, and then Merlin was off.

It took him a few minutes to register the importance of what Sir Leon had told him. He didn't like the fact that Gaius was stepping into his place to be the target of Morgana's revenge; it was bad enough that Lancelot had taken the credit for destroying the Immortal Army. Yet the three words seemed more important than the rest: Arthur trusts _you_.

He was still beaming when he walked into the chamber where the table had been set for Arthur and Agravaine. Both the prince and the uncle were caught up in a deep conversation and the servant's arrival was barely noticed. The light was dim so Merlin set out to add another brass chandelier to the table. Arthur was still wearing the red shirt Merlin had picked for him after the day's training, but Agravaine was wearing yet another tunic, blue this time and with gold thread. He was changing outfits so often during the course of one day that Merlin was feeling sorry for his poor servants.

It wasn't until he heard the topic of their talk that Merlin accidentally spilled Arthur's goblet of wine. The glare was instantaneous, but the servant was too focused on hearing the conversation to care.

"Magic is born of the Four Elements: Earth, Fire, Water and Air," Agravaine was saying as though he was talking about the weather. "The dragons were the ones who could yield such powers first, and then they decided to share their knowledge with men. Even today, dragon magic is regarded as the oldest and most potent. It's not a coincidence that your father sought to destroy the dragons and their dragonlords during the purges."

Merlin could not believe the casual tone with which Agravaine was relating the events. The mention of dragonlords was enough to put him on his guard.

"The dragons were threatening to destroy Camelot," argued Arthur. "The city was full of innocent people."

"Yes and the dragons were probably doing so under the influence of the dragonlords. Trust me; the world is better off without them."

It took Merlin a considerable effort not to jump at Lord Agravaine's throat. He used a fallen knife as an excuse to bend under the table and steady himself. When he got up, his glance met Arthur's and for a moment it was as if they were both of them alone near those caves again, gazing in silence at the burning body of Balinor.

"I only knew one dragonlord and he was a good man," said the prince while staring intently at the candlelight.

Agravaine was buttering his bread with a thoughtful expression.

"Sometimes one good individual must be sacrificed for the greater good," he replied.

"That's not good enough," said Arthur under his breath.

Agravaine did not seem bothered by the comment. "You have yet to make these kinds of decisions."

"I have been tested more than you know," the prince said between clenched teeth and Merlin had to admire his countenance.

Agravaine leaned forward on the table. "_Really_," he sneered, "so tell me, Arthur, what do you intend to do with Morgana when you find her? Will you kill her? Will you lock her away in the dungeons forever? Or will you do what is required to put an end to this madness?"

Merlin tried his best to remain silent and straight against the wall so that he wouldn't be asked to leave the chambers. This was definitely something that he wanted to hear. In fact, he had been asking himself the same question. In his heart, he knew that he could not kill Morgana, not in cold blood. Yet what other options did he have?

"How would you do it?" said Arthur, mirroring Merlin's thoughts. The servant could detect the uneasiness in the prince's voice.

Agravaine's face became grave. He leaned even closer to Arthur. "How does one end magic?" he said quite elusively.

Arthur looked slightly taken aback. "Can it be done?" he said in a low voice.

There was a short moment of silence during which Agravaine took such a mysterious air that Merlin was certain that he would not be allowed to be present anymore. But when Arthur started to look like he was loosing patience, his uncle threw his hands up, jumped unto his feet and began to walk around the table.

"I searched high and low for this and now I'm close, so close," said Agravaine quite suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Four Elemental Stones," answered Agravaine. "Four stones, one for each element, the four corners of a square, set on the ground where they cannot be moved. If you can find the stones and spill the blood of a creature of magic in the middle then magic will cease to exist."

Merlin only wanted to run. He wanted to run to Gaius to ask him if he knew about this. He wanted to run to Kilgharrah to scold the Great Dragon for not telling him. Yet he had to keep his attention on Arthur. He had to stand behind him so that he could guide him, if need be.

The prince was stroking his forehead.

"You think those stones are here?" he asked incredulously.

Agravaine looked almost out of his mind. He took a few long strides towards Arthur, leaning one hand on the table so as to speak close to the prince's ear.

"Not here in Camelot, but close. Your father's allies were close to finding them, back during the purges, but at some point the trace went cold and they stopped their search altogether. This I know because it was my father's wishes to see the end of all magic, but everything changed when Ygraine died and you were born. My father loved her very much. Her death nearly destroyed him." Agravaine's voice was strained. "Ygraine was different. Her mother was of noble blood, ours was not."

Arthur looked as though he had been startled out of a dream. "Ours?"

Agravaine's eyes were far off, as though his mind was back into that other period of his life. "You wouldn't know my sister," he said softly. "She didn't like the kind of life that Ygraine had. She was a free spirit. I don't even know what became of her."

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. "She still lives?"

"Who knows? She disappeared when Ygraine died. Her clothes were found by the river. Some thought that she threw herself in."

"You don't think so?" Arthur asked uneasily.

Agravaine shook his head. "She was far too smart for that," he concluded.

And then, he brushed away the memory as though it was something unimportant. "It was my father's dream to find the Four Elemental Stones. I shall see it done. Why not do it together? With my knowledge and your resources, it can happen."

Agravaine's face had lit up during his speech, highlighting the circles under his eyes, the wrinkled skin, a pale scar on his right cheek and white strands of hair on his head. He looked older now in the dancing shadows of the candlelight then he did during the early morning training. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for Arthur to pass judgment, looking both apprehensive and overexcited.

"What happens to all of those people? What happens when _magic ends_?"

Agravaine did not even hesitate. "They die."

Arthur pushed his chair back so forcefully that the whole table shook and the candles almost fell over. Merlin immediately rushed forward to prevent the small banquet from catching fire. He kept glancing from Arthur to Agravaine in shock.

"I do not accept that," Arthur said unequivocally.

Agravaine's face had turned red.

"Some things have to be done. It is for the greater good, Arthur. What would your father do?"

But Arthur had already jumped to his feet and he was walking fast towards the doors. Merlin felt it his duty to follow him.

"Your father wants this, Arthur. It is your destiny."

Arthur stopped short, his hand barely on the door handle. Merlin tried to get a look at his face, but the prince kept his eyes turned away.

"What do you know about my destiny? I am not my father."

Merlin had to stop to shut the door behind Arthur. When he turned around, the prince was already walking speedily back towards his chambers. The servant had to jog to join him.

"He was way out of line," he said while trying to keep up with Arthur's pace.

"Be quiet," said Arthur between gritted teeth.

They hurried in silence pass several guards and servants. As soon as Merlin had bolted the door inside Arthur's chambers, the prince picked up a piece of his armor that was lying on the table and threw it against the wall. Merlin was even surprised not to have it hurtled at his head. He had not seen the price this angry for a long time.

"How could I be so stupid?" he screamed on top of his lungs. "I gave him too much freedom."

It was painful to watch Arthur struggle with such hard realities. The prince kept pacing around the chambers, stroking his head with a nervous hand, leaning heavily on the table, and then pacing again.

He just had to try something. "You're the regent. If you order him _not_ to search..."

"Don't be so _naive_, Merlin," Arthur cut him off. "He's already searching."

Merlin was slightly taken aback. "You knew?"

Arthur walked back to his desk and slumped warily on the chair. "Of course I knew. I asked Gwaine to keep an eye on him. I just didn't know what he was looking for until tonight."

"All of those people..." Merlin barely breathed out. He wasn't even thinking about himself. All of his thoughts were for Gaius, Alice, Gilli, all of the druids, all of the creatures of magic... even Kilgharrah...

"I won't allow it," Arthur said resolutely, "but I need time to think."

Merlin allowed himself to stare at him for a while. There was something almost like a ritual about his need to think in such situation. When had Arthur grown so much into a future ruler? Why was he only seeing it now?

"Stop staring at me like an idiot and get me some water to wash, will you?" Arthur said quite suddenly.

As he went to bed later in the evening, Merlin couldn't help but think back about the Round Table and at how proud he had felt then. What he had glimpsed at then seemed about to come true, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not see himself in that picture. Doubt crept into his mind and that night he dreamt of an empty seat next to Arthur, and of the Round Table, covered in dust and broken.

**Author's note: **

**Sorry for the bleak ending. I'll try to put some humor in the next chapter to compensate.**

**Reviews are appreciated!**


	3. Arthur needs a haircut

**Chapter Three:**** In which Arthur needs a haircut**

When he got up in the early morning, his mind was already set on what he was going to do next. To his surprise, he found Gaius already at his worktable, a half-eaten breakfast on his right and a parchment and quill on his left. Merlin rapidly washed his face with some fresh water and then sat down with Gaius to eat his bread and cheese, the book of magic opened on his lap.

"What are you looking for?" asked Gaius, hastily putting away the letter he was writing.

Merlin was turning the pages of his book feverishly. He felt he had a thousand things that he wanted to discuss with Gaius, but he also had to report to the kitchen soon to taste Arthur's breakfast. He had to make every minute count.

"Sir Leon knows you're a sorcerer, and Morgana may know too. I'm looking for protective enchantments."

"_May_ know?" said Gaius, slightly shocked.

Merlin felt compelled to look into his pale and wrinkled face. The physician looked so weary and troubled lately. He was caring for Uther on a daily basis and Merlin was worried about what seeing the king in such a diminished state might do to his mentor. The fact that Morgause and Morgana might know about his being a sorcerer wasn't helping Gaius find peace of mind either. There was just so much that the two witches could do with this information.

"I'm sorry. Gwaine knows something, I don't know _how_, and he let it slip out."

Gaius seemed shocked. "Do you think he knows about _you_?"

"I'm not sure," replied Merlin, still turning the pages of his book. "But that's the least of our concerns," he added darkly. "Agravaine is looking for the Four Elemental Stones that could_ end all magic_. Do you know what that is?"

The look on Gaius's face was enough to make Merlin almost drop his book.

The old physician leaned back on his chair and took a few long breaths. "Merlin, we cannot let him do this."

"You don't have to tell me," whispered the young sorcerer. He was shaking his head in dismay.

"Arthur won't let it happen," he added, staring meaningfully at his old mentor.

Gaius's eyes seemed to change for moment as they gaze at each other. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he rose from his seat and he started to walk nervously around his chambers.

"What is it?" asked Merlin.

Gaius seemed to be staring not at him, but _through_ him, as though he could see deep into Merlin's soul.

"I know I can't ask you not to get involved," he said gravely.

Merlin tried to reply but the words were not coming out easily.

"I know that you're not thinking about yourself because you're the most selfless person I know."

"_Gaius_..." Merlin said uneasily, feeling a wave of affection for the old man.

"Magic is like a wind that flows," the physician said elusively. "It breathes in and out of our world. The Four Elemental Stones create a gateway, but the blood spilled is essential to which way the magic flows. I'm sure Agravaine didn't mention that."

Merlin tried to remember the specific words. "He said the blood of a creature of magic had to be spilled. I assumed that he meant a dragon or a pixie or a troll…"

Gaius smiled at that comment. "You are naming all of the creatures that cannot exist without magic, but you are forgetting the most important one."

He felt a great wave of doubt threatening to take over his better judgement. "I'm just a sorcerer," he said softly.

Gaius leaned in closer as if to put more weight on the seriousness of the situation. "No, Merlin. _I'm_ a sorcerer. _You_, on the other hand, are something different altogether. We've known that for a while."

Merlin leaned back on his chair, thinking. "So if Agravaine _does_ end magic, all of the creatures that have been attacking Camelot would die, but not you or Alice or Gilli?"

Gaius nodded. Merlin swallowed.

"You think that I would die too?" he asked in a weak voice. "And Morgause and Morgana?"

"I cannot say for Morgause and Morgana," Gaius said solemnly. "Such deep sorcery has never been attempted before."

"Then… how could you be so certain that _I_ would die?"

Gaius peered into his eyes. "Merlin, you _are_ magic. You were born of it and I am certain that you cannot live without it."

Merlin remained silent after that comment. In his mind, he was trying to absorb everything that he had just heard, but in his heart, the choice before him was already presenting itself.

It would be so easy. With the Four Elemental Stones, he could vanquish Morgause and Morgana and all of the evil creatures attacking Camelot, all at once. If the Stones did not kill them, it would take away their magic without which Morgause and Morgana would be powerless. They would no longer be a danger to Arthur; or at least, not as big of a threat. But then, there were also good creatures like Kilgharrah and unicorns and (Merlin's heart skipped a beat) _Freya_. As long as there were innocent people or creatures in the equation, it was simply out of the question, but what if he could change that? His mind was spinning with the thoughts of the many possibilities now. What if the power of the Stones could be controlled? What if there was a chance that he may be able to do it? Would he seek out the Stones himself? Would he race Agravaine to find them? Would he trade his life for a chance to defeat Morgause and Morgana without any bloodshed? _Well… I guess my blood doesn't count_, he thought bitterly.

But he quickly shook the idea out of his mind. _No, this can't be a right course of action_, he thought resolutely. _I'm not that kind of person_.

Gaius was eyeing him with great concern. "Merlin, you cannot possibly be thinking…"

"Of course not," he said with sudden conviction. And with a playful smile, he added, "You'd miss me too much."

Gaius's reaction was to press a caring hand on his shoulder. No words were exchanged during a few seconds. And then Merlin opened his book of magic again, turning the pages to show Gaius what he had found just a few minutes before. He pointed at the drawing of an amulet.

"How long do you think this could take to make?" he asked his mentor.

"A protective enchantment? It shouldn't take very long," said Gaius after glancing rapidly at the list of ingredients to perform the enchantment.

Merlin jumped off his seat, suddenly agitated. He was glad to have found something to do other than watching out for signs of Morgause or Morgana. The rumour in Camelot was that Morgause was dead, but Merlin was sure that she wasn't. He had seen her in his dreams and that had been enough to convince him, and incidentally, to convince Gaius. As for Morgana, he had felt her presence around Camelot, not too close, at least a dozen times in the last year. It had become his habit to ride on Kilgharrah as often as his duties allowed him, just to survey the kingdom; not to mention the fact that he was becoming very fond of flying. Morgana's distant magic pulse had been a constant reminder that the more important battles were still ahead of him. Yet the idea of waiting for a battle that he couldn't escape was starting to get old. Kilgharrah was accusing him of being reckless, and he was, but only a little.

"You need a binding ingredient to represent the person you are trying to protect," continued Gaius. "In such cases, a lock of hair is most recommended."

Merlin immediately started to search the drawers in which Gaius kept his knives and other tools. When he came back to the table, he handed a pair of scissors to the physician.

"You're making this for me?" he said, astounded.

"One for you. One of Arthur."

"And how are you going to get a lock of Arthur's hair?" asked Gaius, raising one eyebrow.

Merlin couldn't help but grin. "I might have an idea, but I keep the scissors."

The walk downstairs towards the kitchen was uneventful, and the tasting equally so. Sir Leon was as thorough as usual, making him even taste the butter before putting it on Arthur's bread. Next, as per his schedule, he went to Arthur's chambers, except that the prince was already up. In fact, this was happening more and more often since Arthur had begun his regency. He often had speeches to prepare and he preferred doing that in the early morning.

"What's that?" said the prince in stupor as soon as he saw Merlin approach with the pair of scissors.

Unlike his servant, Arthur had not spent much time with a man of science, and therefore he had not seen a pair of scissors very often.

"Haircut."

Arthur snorted. "You are not giving me a haircut."

"But you need one," Merlin said slyly.

"Says who?"

Merlin pursed his lips. "Gwen."

The change in Arthur's tone was instantaneous. "Did she?" He passed a hand in his hair. "You're serious?"

Merlin tried to maintain his straight face. "Everybody has noticed it."

"Noticed_ what_? Is this about _Gwen_? It's too early and I'm not having a conversation about Gwen. I shall see her if I please and that's the end of it. I won't be lectured to like a child; not by Agravaine, and least of all by _you_."

"Not Gwen. The _hair_," Merlin said with emphasis.

"Oh. Right. What did you mean then by 'everybody has noticed it'?"

Merlin moved behind Arthur which gave him the liberty to smile.

"I think Elyan called it _girlie_. But it's not too _girlie_, you know. You have nice… blond _curls_."

Arthur turned around feverishly. His face had turned red. "I – am – not – _girlie_."

"Shall I cut then, Sire?" Merlin said mockingly.

"Fine."

He really needed only one lock of hair; therefore he only used the scissors once.

"Well, that's done," he said happily.

"_What_?"

_This is going to be priceless_, he thought as he put the lock of hair and the scissors safety into his jacket pocket.

"I gotta go. Plenty of chores to do," Merlin said cheerfully.

"_What_? One cut? After all that fuss you made? What about all that stuff you said about my hair being _girlie_?

"I was only repeating something I heard," said Merlin while hastily collecting Arthur's dirty clothes.

It was one of those times when he was going to have something thrown at him; he just knew it.

"You can't leave now. You have to finish this!" said the prince while touching the back of his head as though certain that he would find a huge chunk of hair missing.

"No, your hair is really nice. Less _girlie_. More manly. I'm sure Gwen will love it."

"If you don't come back here, I'll put you in the stocks myself!" cried out the prince.

"Are you sure you're not too busy? Don't you have a long speech to write? Or other manly stuff to do?" Merlin said smartly as he pressed his hand on the door handle.

The next sound that followed was that of a goblet crashing into the closed wooden door.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**More action in the next chapter. How did you like the humour? Please review!**


	4. Gwaine is suspicious

**Chapter Four: In which Gwaine is suspicious**

After the lock of hair, gathering the rest of the ingredients for the protective enchantment was easy enough. Gaius had most of the necessary herbs on hand. The hair was added to the mixture and boiled in fresh water. A piece of carved wood was needed for the final step of making an amulet and since Gaius had mentioned the importance of meaningfulness to create the necessary enchantment, Merlin willingly decided to sacrifice the wooden dragon that his father had made for him. Using one of Gaius' precision tools, he carefully separated both wings from the piece: one for Gaius and one for Arthur. The final touch was a leather string attached to the dragon wing. He then proceeded to dip the amulet into the broth while adding a few drops of his blood and reciting the words that would seal the enchantment.

Merlin was quite satisfied with the result and he even scolded himself for not making such an amulet sooner. He put the necklace around Gaius' neck without further ado and watched as the physician carefully placed the wooden dragon wing under his tunic, out of sight.

"I suppose that you have a plan to make Arthur wear that?" Gaius inquired.

Merlin shrugged while sucking the punctured tip of his thumb that was still leaking beads of blood.

"I'll figure out something while I'm mucking out his horses," he said mechanically.

Gaius was slightly taken aback. "Didn't you do that yesterday?"

Merlin merely snorted. He hated to sound defeated, but there was truth in it every time he had to endure that godforsaken smell. He did like horses, just not cleaning up after them.

"After that bit about giving him a haircut, he's going to bring up the mucking out soon enough. I might as well do it now. It will give me time to think," he said on his way out.

"Wait," Gaius said suddenly. He seemed to hesitate. His hand was pressed against the amulet. "I need to ask something more of you. A bit of your blood."

"Why?" asked Merlin, closing the door to make sure they were not overheard.

"For an enchantment. Something I found in the book that may tell us more about you."

There was a strange apprehension in Gaius's demeanor that made Merlin hesitate. Yet he could not refuse such a simple request to someone who had given him so much in life.

"How much is a bit?" Merlin muttered while playing with his thumb. "I think it stopped bleeding already..."

He had not finished his sentence when Gaius presented him with a wooden bowl big enough to put his fist in it.

"What are you making? _Soup_?" he let out, slightly disheveled.

Gaius merely grinned. "We'll use your wrist. It will be less conspicuous."

Merlin found the experience of giving his blood much less enjoyable than making the amulet. It wasn't so bad at first, but by the time the bowl was half full he was feeling light-headed and his right-hand fingers were a bit numb.

Gaius gave him a large piece of bread after carefully wrapping a bandage around his wrist, which Merlin concealed under the sleeve of his shirt. He then left the physician's chambers to go down to the stables, the amulet safely in his pocket. He had given up the idea of mucking out the horses as time was flying by and he had to collect Arthur's armor from the smithy before today's training. He was also hoping that the long walk would help him solve his current problem. The trick would be to hide the amulet so that Arthur would have it on him most of the time without actually knowing it. He had considered putting it in the folds of Arthur's favorite jacket, except that the prince wouldn't be taking his jacket to battle. _In fact_, thought Merlin with a pang of hope, _if Arthur was riding out, he would be wearing his chain mail and chest plate_.

He was at the blacksmith's in a flash. It took no time for him to pick up the polished and repaired armor. He was, after all, the prince's manservant and everyone in Camelot knew him by name. He inquired about the health of the smithy's four year-old son and then he took off without further ado. All he needed now was a quiet place where he could inspect the armor in peace and find a place for the amulet.

He walked back quickly to the citadel and went directly to the armory. Thankfully, it was empty. Sitting at his usual worktable, he took the amulet out of his pocket and began the delicate task of trying to squeeze it into the back of Arthur's helmet. There was a fold in the metal just over the neck that would do nicely.

Again and again, he tried to fit the small dragon wing into the fold, but it was slightly too big. He was about to try one last time before considering carving into the piece of wood when suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was a powerful grip and it ran down his arm, towards the amulet. Merlin tried to jerk his hand off but whoever was behind him was quicker and the strong hand picked up the amulet before the young sorcerer could put it out of sight.

"Caught red-handed, Merlin?"

Merlin knew the voice, and he didn't like the accusing tone.

"It's not what you're thinking," he said, turning around to face the knight.

The amulet was dangling from Gwaine's closed fist.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking, Merlin," said the knight between clenched teeth.

Merlin had known Gwaine for a while now. They had been friend since the first day of their encounter. Why then did his friend have such a suspicious look on his face?

"It's not even mine," said Merlin, his eyes fixes on the amulet.

Gwaine's attitude didn't improve at that comment. He closed his eyes for a split second, and then he started pacing around the armory.

"I thought you were my friend, Merlin," said the knight. His tone was bitter now.

"I am. It's just a stupid _Arthur_ thing. I think it has something to do with Gwen..." He wasn't sure that the lie was going to help him, but he had to try.

"Don't lie to me, Merlin. I'm not Arthur. I don't have his ability to trust easily or to have faith in people. I genuinely thought that you were different."

Merlin's heart sank. "What are you accusing me of?" he said in spite of his better judgment.

He wanted to take back those words as soon as they were out. Gwaine's attitude went from suspicious to angry. He slammed his hand hard on the table in front of Merlin, the amulet still in his hand.

"I could have you burnt at the stake for this," Gwaine said threateningly.

"It's not magic!" burst out Merlin.

"I know an amulet when I see one!"

It was as though a wall had gone up between them. It was true that Gwaine had grown remote and downbeat ever since he had become a knight, but Merlin had assumed that it had something to do with his father. Now he was discovering a new side to Gwaine that he didn't _want_ to discover.

"You know, Merlin, I didn't want to be a knight. I certainly didn't _ask_ for it. I'm not a man of honor, but I know when something is worth dying for. So I'm telling you this: don't stand in my way."

Merlin felt completely petrified. He wanted to say something, _anything_, but this throat was dried. It was as though someone had dumped icy water on his head. And then, in one harsh stroke, Gwaine flung the amulet back at him. The glare on his face would have been enough to pierce anyone's heart.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and low. "I gave you plenty of chances, but you're just a liar."

_He knows_, thought Merlin instantly. However, he couldn't tell if this was about him or about Gaius again; and anyway, it didn't matter. If he didn't tell Gwaine now, he would loose a friend forever. He knew it, just like he knew that Gwaine was important for what lay ahead. The words suddenly burst into this head: Courage, Strength and Magic He couldn't let Gwaine go like this.

As the knight stormed out of the armory, Merlin jumped out of his seat to go after him, the amulet stuffed back into his pocket.

But Gwaine was too fast, and as he crossed the threshold, the servant bumped into Prince Arthur instead.

"Where - have - you - _been_?" Arthur yelled instantly.

"Here... I... I need to talk to Gwaine," mumbled Merlin.

"You two can chit-chat later. You need to saddle up. We're riding out."

_This can't be good_, thought Merlin. The seriousness on Arthur's face was foreboding.

"What's going on?" he asked bluntly.

"_Morgana_. She's been spotted near the border of Cenred's kingdom. A village is burning. Now go and get my horse."

As Merlin was about to sprint across the courtyard, Arthur suddenly took hold of his arm.

"I have a task for you," he said in a low voice.


	5. Arthur is not a prat

**Chapter Five: In which Arthur is not a **_**prat**_

It was only when he reached the courtyard that Merlin realised the urgency of the situation. Most of the knights were already on their horses. Their red capes were shimmering with mist and seemed somewhat heavier than usual. Many of the guards had drawn faces and looked pale under the grey and rainy sky. Merlin was forced to remember that some of them were young men from villages all over the kingdom, villages like Ealdor, Brome, Eska, Wall, Du Lac and Grey Stone. Like him, these men had come to Camelot in search of _something_: a better life, work, adventure, food and shelter, even love. Now these men were riding out to find out of their home had been destroyed.

"It's not Ealdor," said a voice behind Merlin's ears.

He felt Lancelot's hand patting his back before he even saw the knight walk up beside him. They were both dragging their horses side by side. Lancelot had his horse: a white and grey mare. Merlin had his and Arthur's horses: two brown stallions similar almost in every way except for the fact that Merlin's was significantly smaller and had a more simple saddle.

"Maybe it's not Ealdor," said Merlin, "but that doesn't make it less horrible. You didn't really know her before this, but she used to be our friend."

The report had mostly been about a column of smoke rising from a village. Screams had been heard. A woman with long black hair had been seen leading a group of armed men into the woods. It had taken less than one second for Arthur to come up with the conclusion: _Morgana_. Wherever she went, death and mayhem seemed to follow. She had begun to wreck havoc on small villages a few months ago, while at the same time spreading rumours about the blood of Pendragon being cursed. This, above all, was worst than the burning of houses. It was causing fear that the house of Pendragon was no longer fit to rule. This was partly true; it was common knowledge that Arthur's regency was the direct result of Uther's fragile state of mind. However, watching Arthur every day was giving Merlin hope that the arrogant _prat_ was on his way to becoming a great king. The only Pendragon that could sit on the throne now was the rightful one. Anyone else would mean civil war.

"You can't think of her that way anymore, Merlin," Lancelot said softly. The young sorcerer tried to ignore the trace of concern in his voice. "She's your enemy now. You need to get your mind right, otherwise you're going to get killed."

They were interrupted when Gwaine strode between them, pulling on his horse and brushing his shoulder roughly against Merlin's. All that Lancelot and the servant could do was to stare back at Gwaine as he took up a position next to Arthur.

Merlin felt his stomach tighten; the impulse to tell Gwaine about his secret was very strong. He knew that Gaius would be against this course of action. Yet the fact that Gwaine was suspicious of _something_ couldn't be ignored. He couldn't loose Gwaine's friendship; that much he was certain of. If revealing his magic was the only way, then he would do it. He just didn't have any idea about _how_. With Gilli, it had been a spur of the moment thing. Waiting around for the right opportunity to present itself was going to be a different game altogether. Gwaine wasn't always easy to follow.

"What's going on between you two?" said Lancelot, glancing sideways at him and then at the other knight.

Merlin decided that it would be best to ignore the question for now.

"I need you to do something for me," he said in a low voice to Lancelot. "I need you to talk to Arthur to distract him while I put something in his horse's satchel."

"Something useful, I hope," Lancelot said in an equally conniving tone.

Merlin was pretending to be busy with the saddle of his own horse while at the same time holding the amulet and string in his closed fist.

"Protection," he murmured.

Lancelot muttered a low "fair enough" and then he jumped on his horse and galloped across the courtyard to stand with Arthur and Gwaine. Merlin kept his head low and tried his best to look inconspicuous as he led his horse besides the prince's brown stallion and started to verify the straps of Arthur's saddle. Slipping the amulet inside one of the pockets of the saddle was quickly done and easy. However, the conversation that he was hearing wasn't one that could quiet his mind. À

The worst part of it was that _Arthur_ was doing the explaining. "Magic corrupts, Gwaine. It destroyed her soul. I wish now that it was some enchantment or spell that could be broken, but it's not. She's killing innocent people just to create chaos. Her thirst for revenge is growing out of proportions. It was like something snapped inside her. She wasn't like that before. She was a good person. I wish you could have known her then."

There was so much sorrow in Arthur's voice that very few people dared to speak. The moment was broken only by the arrival of Agravaine on a high black steed.

"Arthur, I don't agree with this," he said, his voice booming.

Merlin realised with horror that Lord Agravaine was pointing his finger at him.

"You can't keep bringing your servant along. He's not a soldier. He can't defend himself. You'll only get him killed."

His head was already making plans to sneak out of Camelot and follow the party unnoticed when he saw that Arthur was staring at him and... _winking_.

"You are absolutely right, uncle," said Arthur and Merlin could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "This is why, starting today, I'm appointing Merlin to the position of physician's apprentice. His duties will be changed accordingly and as per the knight's code he will be allowed to receive some training. I honestly think that it will be a waste of time since Merlin is completely useless with a sword, but if he is to tag along on every dangerous trip he should at least learn to fight properly. What do you say, Lancelot, are you up to the challenge?"

"Definitely, Sire."

Merlin felt completely numb with surprise. Lancelot was beaming at him. Arthur was smiling like an idiot. Agravaine was fuming. And all of the knights were clapping cheerfully and patting him on the back.

"Congratulations," Gwaine sneered. "That's a real mark of _trust_." And then he sped off to join Agravaine who was taking the lead of the party.

Without any words, Arthur pressed a hand on his shoulder and then he went to join with the others, turning back to smile at him on the way. Merlin knew that he should be feeling happy and proud, but Gwaine's unusually rude and distant attitude was really putting a damper on his spirit.

He was just about to get on his horse, when he spotted Gaius walking speedily towards him.

"I wanted to surprise you," said Gaius as he clasped his arms around Merlin to give him a fatherly hug. "Don't look at me like that," he said as he took a step back to peer into Merlin's face. "For you to remain a manservant for another year would just be a waste of talent. Whatever you may be thinking, you're more than ready. And you will be able to keep an eye on Prince Arthur as he becomes your most important patient."

"I'll... try my best," he said in a shaky voice.

"I'm sure you will. Here you have everything that you could need for basic treatments," said Gaius while presenting his apprentice with a large brown shoulder bag in which he could hear the sound of glass clinging.

Merlin proceeded to arrange the bag safely unto his saddle. He could see Arthur on his horse pacing at the gate. The change of position was happening faster than he had imagined and it was a little unsettling.

"What is it?" asked Gaius.

Merlin lowered his voice while keeping his eyes on the party. "Arthur asked me to watch Agravaine. He wants to be advised if his uncle finds the Four Elemental Stones."

Gaius' forehead wrinkled.

"This yet another sign that Arthur trusts you," he whispered to Merlin.

"I know," muttered Merlin. "It's the Stones. Just to think of it... to think of what might happen... It's too dark."

"Be very watchful then," said Gaius. "And do take care of yourself."

They were interrupted by Arthur's loud yelling. Merlin climbed unto his horse hastily and then made his way to join the group. The sound of many horse hooves rapidly filled the courtyard. Soon they were riding out of the safety of the citadel, unto the streets of Camelot and then towards the countryside. The road was muddy and slippery and it took Merlin all of his concentration not to fall off his horse. There was no way that he was giving Arthur the pleasure of laughing at his face if he fell.

The sky was clearing up a little but they had a long journey to reach the border of Cenred's kingdom and Merlin quickly wished that he had brought something warmer to wear. He had a good impression as to why the druids who lived in the wild wore the green hooded cloaks.

Arthur was in good spirits after the announcement and he kept probing Merlin about his new duties as physician's apprentice.

"Does that mean that you're actually admitting that I have outsmarted you?" Merlin said tauntingly as he and Arthur were riding side by side.

"Only in your dreams, _Merlin_. The way I see it, I've move you up from being a _total_ idiot to being a _partial_ idiot."

Merlin merely smirked. "Name ten herbs that can be used to treat an infection."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"Name five herbs."

"_Merlin_..."

"Name three. One? It's not that hard..."

Just then, Agravaine moved a little aside from the party to go and talk in hushed voices to a knight whose name Merlin did not recall.

"Shouldn't you be doing something else?" Arthur said grumpily.

Merlin immediately pulled on his horse's reins to slow it down, which only resulted in his almost falling on the muddy path.

"Very stealthy, Merlin. Very knight-like," snorted the prince.

It became clear that they would not reach the village until nightfall when the rain started again and the ground became covered in a thick fog. Agravaine was pressing but Arthur soon gave the order to set up camp for the night. Unlike his uncle, the prince knew that if they were to encounter Morgana in the misty forest, she would have the advantage.

As the evening grew darker, knights and soldiers alike grew quieter. For some of them, the memory of how Morgana had attacked and killed mindlessly innocent citizens of Camelot was still vivid. Sir Leon seemed particularly affected by this and he kept ordering more guards around Arthur and Lord Agravaine. They were halfway through a tasteless bowl of soup when Merlin noticed that Leon was wincing in pain. The knight still had a bandage around his hand and wrist.

"Why don't you let me take a look at that?" Merlin said while putting his bowl down.

Leon did not seem to mind. He took a seat on a log besides the young apprentice and presented his hand. Merlin undid the bandage and immediately he wasn't too happy about what he was looking at.

Gaius had told him not to show too much emotion because it could induce unnecessary fear, so he tried to remain as poised as possible.

"You're my first real patient," he said with a half-grin.

"It's an honour then," muttered Leon. He was looking intently at his hand. "It's not infected, is it?"

Merlin took his time to inspect the deep cut on Leon's hand and wrist. It had clearly been done by a blade.

"I definitely need to clean it. See how the skin is red and swelling around it? Also, the wound is not closing properly. This will require some stitching."

Jumping to his feet, Merlin strode towards his horse to get his brown bag of supplies. He was happy that Gaius had thought of everything, but he was even more perplexed by the fact that he knew so easily and so naturally what needed to be done.

He had not noticed that Lancelot was standing to him until he heard the low voice above his shoulder.

"Do you actually know what you're doing?" said the knight.

"Believe it or not, being Arthur's manservant doesn't require that much work. Most of the time, he's either training or holding a council. Ever since I've been in Camelot, I've been following Gaius around for the better part of every day. I guess I never really realised how much I was learning.

Lancelot was still sceptical. "But have you ever done this? _Stitching_?"

Merlin glanced rapidly at Sir Leon who looked just about ready to faint.

"Yes," he muttered to Lancelot. Then he gulped and added, "On horses."

Lancelot's eyes went wide. "_Horses_?"

Merlin tried not to sound too apologetic. After all, if Gaius thought that he was ready, then it wasn't a knight's place to question the court physician's decision.

"It was good practice," he said bluntly. "Besides, it cannot wait. It's been allowed to go on for too long already. If it gets more infected, it could get serious. I need to do this before it becomes too dark."

Lancelot was staring at him as though seeing him for the first time. The knight pressed a firm hand on his shoulder before saying in a low voice, "Merlin, you are quite special, I hope you know that."

Had Arthur not been watching, Merlin would have blushed like a girl at the comment. As it was, he merely gave Lancelot a quick pat-on-the-back and then he returned to Sir Leon with his supplies.

The process of cleaning up the wound and then closing it with stitches was as familiar to him as putting on Arthur's armour. He followed every step as Gaius would have prescribed it. The light of the day was fading fast but even though he was hurrying he still managed to make a reasonably small and precise line. For the finishing touch, he blended a few ingredients that would stimulate the healing and applied the mixture carefully before wrapping Leon's hand and wrist with a clean bandage.

As the knights were going to sleep and the guards were starting to take turns, Merlin went to lie down next to Arthur, feeling drained but satisfied at the same time. One thing that he was dreading was the urge to use magic to do a physician's job. He had discussed it with Gaius on many occasions. His old mentor had tried to explain that the necessary cure or treatment would always present itself, whether it was magic or not depended on the nature of the illness or injury. Merlin had not experienced what Gaius had meant until today. The stitches had seen like the logical course of action; the idea of using magic had not even crossed his mind because there was another and better-suited alternative.

He was going to go to sleep smiling broadly to himself, he just knew it.

When he was just about to close his eyes, he heard a familiar voice next to him whisper, "Well done, Merlin."

And then he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Arthur rides into a trap

**Chapter Six: In which Arthur rides into a trap**

He was dreaming of darkness. He knew that it was a dream yet he couldn't wake up. The faster he was running and the darker the world around him seemed to get. He was chasing someone, he was certain of that, but he really wasn't getting anywhere and the hopelessness and dread were overwhelming. Soon he got to a lake and it was black except for a pale glow in the middle. There were voices calling his name, but it wasn't his real name. _Emrys_. He could feel their distress, but he couldn't help them. He was powerless. His magic was gone. How could that be? He couldn't live without magic. Was he dead then?

And then, he heard a voice – _hers_ – and he wheeled around searchingly. Suddenly there she was, standing beside him with a pale light around her. _Freya_.

_Merlin, it is not your time yet._Her voice was echoing all around him.

_Do you know who I am chasing_? He asked.

_You'll know soon enough._

_I miss you…_ He said. His voice was strained. He could feel that she was fading away. He wanted to touch her, to hold her…

_Merlin, you have to wake up. You have to wake up now. WAKE UP!_

Merlin jerked his head upwards and bumped into someone's solid chain mail clad chest.

"_Easy_, you're all right now…" said that someone's soothing voice.

It took him a few seconds to recognise Lancelot. The knight was bending over him and holding him down with both hands on his shoulders.

"What… What happened?" he mumbled.

His head was aching as though he had just done some serious drinking. He tried to get a better look at his surroundings but he could only see flashes of light.

"It started out as tossing and turning, and then you were really thrashing and yelling. I've been trying to wake you up for the pass five minutes."

"What's all that bright light?" he asked almost absent-mindedly. He was too busy with trying to block out the massive pain in his skull to ponder on whether or not he was making any sense.

"There is no bright light. It's not even dawn yet. Who's Freya?"

Merlin tried not to jump at the name. Instantly he started to wonder what other strange words he had been shouting in his sleep.

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe," he heard Lancelot whisper.

As he started to sit up, his vision became a little clearer and he noticed that there was a lot of action around him. Arthur was no longer lying down. Knights and guards alike were putting on their gear and getting on their horses.

"Since we've all been so charmingly woken up by my _idiot_ manservant, we might as well leave right away," Arthur said grumpily as he walked by to pick up his sword.

"Thanks very much, Merlin," said Elyan as he too walked by. He was rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

_Oh great_, thought the young warlock. However, as soon as he began to move the pain in his head reached a peak and his vision became blurry again.

"Take it easy," said Lancelot. "You have a couple of minutes before we're ready to leave." He then lowered his voice to add, "Did you feel magic like when you felt the power of the Cup of Life? Is it Morgana? Are we running into a…?"

He stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly aware of what he had done. At the same time, Gwaine appeared from behind a tree, wearing a sulky expression on his face. Merlin distinctively saw Lancelot stand in between them. _At least I can see properly now_, thought Merlin. _And so can Gwaine._

"Not that it's any of my business, but what the Devil's wrong with you?" Gwaine said angrily.

"Nothing's wrong," the young knight replied bluntly.

The tall man took a step closer to Lancelot as though he meant to challenge him. "Don't think that I haven't been watching you as well. Now look me in the eyes and tell me again that _nothing's_ _wrong_."

Merlin's gaze met Gwaine's and for a moment he thought that he was done for. They were surrounded by knights and guards of Camelot. All that Gwaine had to do was point his finger and declare to all that the physician's apprentice had magic, and Merlin's fate would be sealed.

"_Gwaine_…" the young warlock began to say.

But he was cut off by Arthur's booming voice. "Get your lazy backside on your horse, _Merlin_!"

Lancelot shoved Gwaine out of the way and offered Merlin his hand to pull himself up.

Gwaine grumbled a low "this isn't over" and then he stormed off to get his horse and join the other knights. Merlin's eyes immediately sought Lord Agravaine. He seemed to remember that Arthur had asked him to watch his uncle's movements. He half-expected to find him gone, but there he was, standing on his horse next to Arthur and whispering into his nephew's ears. When Gwaine arrived next to the prince, he turned back to glare at Merlin, but the young sorcerer ignored him.

"He knows, doesn't he?" asked Lancelot. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Merlin replied with a small nod. He still felt shaken from the dream. It had been so real and terrifying. Something horrible was about to happen or perhaps it lay at the very end of this path they were on, except that he had no idea what it was. What he knew for sure, though, was that he had enough on his mind already without having to worry about Gwaine's mood swings. He had to concentrate on protecting Arthur and that was all that he felt able to do at the present time.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely noticed it when Lancelot presented him with his horse. They gathered a few things hastily and then they were off with the rest of the party.

They rode under the cover of the trees in the semi-darkness. The air was still heavy with the promise of rain and the sky was a dark shade of grey.

The first thing that they saw as the path took them into wide opened fields was a column of smoke rising just over the hill. The answer became clear at once: the burning village was the one called Brome, which meant that they were about one or two hours away from Ealdor at galloping speed.

The whole party came to a halt as Arthur and Agravaine brought their horses closer together to discuss their current situation. Merlin tried to remain inconspicuously behind Arthur so that he could listen in as well.

"With all that rain, the fires should be extinguished already," muttered Agravaine.

The prince too knew the signs: unnatural fires could only mean that magic was behind it.

"You're riding into a trap," continued Agravaine.

Arthur looked pensive. "Hurting Camelot's people is only the first step of her revenge. She doesn't mean to kill us here and today, merely to cause us pain." He paused and Merlin saw him shift on his horse's saddle. The prince was always restless whenever Morgana was concerned. Merlin suspected that he hadn't made up his mind about what he was going to do with her if he caught her. "We can't abandon those poor people," Arthur concluded. "We can send scouts ahead, if that will ease your mind."

His uncle gazed at him, slightly surprised. "Yes, it would ease my mind," he replied.

Arthur waved around and gave the order. Elyan and two guards rode towards the Eastern side; Percival and two more guards took the left flank.

Merlin shifted on his horse as well, wishing that he could do more. Morgana's magic was strong now and it still eluded him. He wished that he could feel her presence, but he couldn't. With all his powers, he was still as blind as a simple soldier.

It took him a few seconds to realise that Arthur was glancing at him with an annoyed expression on his face.

"What is it now, Merlin?" said the prince.

The warlock pursed his lips. "It's a trap," he said.

"_Obviously_."

"And you're going to spring it," he replied, appalled.

"_Right again_, Merlin."

"Do you think she will ever tire of this game?" he mumbled uneasily.

The prince rolled his eyes up. "Perhaps you'd prefer to be safely in your bed," he sneered.

"I might!" snapped back Merlin.

"You're such a scarred little _girl_, Merlin! Get a grip! Morgana's not after you as far as I know."

And he rode off to join Elyan and Percival who were returning from scouting.

"What happens when we do meet Morgana, _sorcerer_?" whispered Gwaine, leaning close to his ear.

Merlin tried not to glare too much at him. "You protect Arthur. I'll do the rest," he murmured.

And then he kicked his horse forward without even looking at the expression on Gwaine's face.

The report from Percival and Elyan was that there was too much fog on either side of the village to get a clear idea of the situation. So instead of sneaking around, Arthur decided to head for the village through the main road. If Morgana was waiting, then she might not expect this. If she wasn't, then they wouldn't waste too much time.

The fog was indeed very dense and it got even thicker as they got close to the village. As they passed the gate, the scene before them was one of desolation. What was left of the houses was blackened by fire and smoke. Bodies were strewn on the grass. Some of them, Merlin noticed, had red cloaks on.

The knights stepped down from their horses almost simultaneously. Elyan and Percival went to the left side of the road while Lancelot and Gwaine went to the right. Arthur made a movement to join them, but Lord Agravaine held his arm.

"Wait a little," said Arthur's uncle.

"They're dead," said Elyan. "This is the missing patrol, Sire," he added, bowing his head down in dismay.

"This one is still alive!" shouted Lancelot. He had hunched over a body wearing a red cape.

The prince immediately glanced back at Merlin. The young warlock knew right away what this meant for him. He jumped down from his horse, grabbed his brown bag, flung it over his shoulder and ran towards the first man that Lancelot had identified. He immediately kneeled down and was able to spot a wound to the left eye and cheek, but no injury to the torso or limbs. He fetched into his bag for something to clean the damaged eye, but then his eyes rested on the number of bodies across the field. All of these men needed his help. He couldn't waste too much time on _one_ injured eye…

"Lancelot!" he called out. "Take this cloak. Rip it in pieces. Then I want you to tie a ribbon around the ankle of all of the men that you know for sure are dead."

The knight was looking at him wide-eyed. It was Gwaine who brought him out of his state of shock.

"I've seen it done before. I'll do it."

Gwaine immediately grabbed two red cloaks from the ground and started to work.

"What about me?" said Lancelot.

"Make bandages," said Merlin, returning his attention to the damaged-eye guard. "Lots of them."

As soon as the first man started to stir, Merlin moved on to the next fallen body. It was a farmer this time. A big chunk of his arm had been sliced off seemingly by a blade and he was loosing a lot of blood. Merlin wrapped a piece of cloth around the arm to stop the bleeding. This man had very little chance of making it. He glanced around at Arthur and Agravaine. The prince and his uncle were circling around the village, trying to get a better appraisal of their surroundings. It was the perfect opportunity…

Merlin whispered "_Gestathole_!"

The magic surged through him as hastily as he had required it to. He peered under the bandage and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. The injury was still present, but nowhere near as serious as it had been before.

Merlin moved on to the next patient. He walked pass four bodies with red ribbons at their ankles and they were clearly dead. He then kneeled in front of a man for who he could do very little as a physician, but whose life he could save with magic. Turning away from the knights and guards, he whispered a healing spell again. The man immediately began to stir. By the ninth or tenth man, he had already lost count of which ones he had used magic on. His head was starting to throb at the effort of bestowing so much healing. That power had never been his strong point. At least, the other knights were making sure that he was being allowed to do his job unhindered, which gave him the privacy he needed.

When Gwaine was finished, more than half of the bodies had a red piece of cloak tied to the ankle. It was only then that Merlin noticed something terribly wrong.

"Where are the women and children?" he said. His throat was very dried.

"What?" said Lancelot.

He got up, ignoring the pain in his legs and knees. Panic was starting to take over.

"Where are the women and children?" he repeated louder. "These are all soldiers and farmers. Where is the rest of the village?"

Around him, the other knights were looking around. A breeze was beginning to blow, diluting the fog slowly but steadily. It ruffled the back of Merlin's hair. That's when he saw them.

The women and children were walking towards them in silence. Some had traces of blood on their hands and faces. Tears were in their eyes. The women were moaning or sobbing softly. The children were fearful and huddled behind their mothers. Merlin felt rooted on the spot, amazed that they were still alive yet bewildered by the extraordinary occurrence. Maybe this was a sign that the old Morgana wasn't entirely gone.

He glanced around and saw Arthur walking towards the group of survivors. He couldn't recall seeing Arthur step down from his horse and separate himself from Agravaine. In fact, Merlin realised, the uncle was nowhere to be seen.

As soon as that thought hit him, he was hit by a powerful wave of magic. It came at the same time as the wind that lifted the fog. It was like a sudden awareness of the magic around him. And then he felt it; or rather, he felt _her_. _Morgana_.

_Do it now, sister_, murmured a voice inside his head.

He recognised it at once: Morgause. If both witches were behind this, they didn't stand a chance.

He didn't even have time to react. A shower of arrows appeared on top of the heads of all of the women and children present. He saw the knights turn to the survivors in a flash and pin them all to the ground in an attempt to shield them with their own bodies. Their heroic act was in fact nothing out of the ordinary to them; it was what Prince Arthur had taught them to do in case of an attack where arrows were used against simple folks.

"Why are you doing this?" cried out voice in dismay.

The scream made Merlin wheel around to find the speaker: Arthur. The prince was standing in the middle of the field, quite alone, but the arrows were not aiming for him. They would land in front of him so that he could watch as Morgana imposed more suffering on his people. The volley landed on the shields and armour of the knights and guards. There were a few screams which were immediately covered by Morgana's voice. It filled Merlin's mind like a knife and it was full of hatred.

_He is exactly where I dreamed he would be_, sneered Morgana.

The reply came from Morgause. _Then kill him now_.

Merlin knew what it meant before he even saw the second volley. This time, there were just a few arrows but they were all aiming for Arthur.

The young warlock's reaction was instinctive. In a few steps, he was in front of Arthur.

The first thing that he knew was a sharp sting in his right shoulder, and then Arthur was screaming his name, and finally he was pulled to the ground where he rolled on his side in an explosion of pain.


	7. Gwaine is not a prat

**Chapter S****even: In which Gwaine is not a prat**

Merlin's mind was filled with chaos, pain and screams of terror, but those were not the things he was interested in. With all of his will, he was trying to focus on the voices of the two witches. He needed to know what they were planning next: it was simply a matter of survival.

He heard Morgause first.

_Is he dead?_

There was s short silence before Morgana's reply. _He got what he deserved. This will hurt Gaius more than anything else I could have done. _

_Why do you trouble yourself with the fate of the physician and the mindless servant?_ Morgause sneered_. Soon, I will be all right again and together we will bring about the end of Camelot. _

_I want to see them suffer as I have suffered,_ replied Morgana. _I want them to pay for what they did to you._

_It doesn't matter anymore, Morgana. __ Soon we will have the Four Elemental Stones and we shall have revenge._

So Morgana and Morgause knew about the Stones. He had not expected that. What could two witches possibly do with something that could end all magic? Certainly, they were not going to put their own lives on the line. What other purpose could they have in mind? Could the Stones be used to restore Morgause to her full strength? He would have to bring this to Gaius' attention. And also, Morgause's voice had seemed so distant. He was sure that she was communicating from another location, somewhere far away. If he could find her and face her alone, then he wouldn't have to reveal his magic...

Someone was screaming his name and shaking him. It took him a few seconds to realize who it was. _Oh yes_. He had just stepped in between Arthur and a couple of arrows.

"I'm all right," he managed to say. "Stop shaking me."

He looked up and saw Arthur staring at him.

"No one is shaking you," said the prince.

"Oh."

He tried to sit up but the sudden movement sent a thunder of pain through his chest and right arm. He reached up to feel his shoulder with the tip of his fingers and found the arrow planted just below his collarbone.

He let out a sigh of relief. "It's a flesh wound," he muttered. "It's all right... It's not that bad..."

Someone was shouting orders. He wasn't even sure who it was. Everything was happening in slow motion.

"Get the women and children to safety! Gather the wounded! Knights, on your horses! Make the area safe!"

"Did anyone see Morgana? She was here..." mumbled Merlin.

But then the screaming just became louder. "How can anyone be so _stupid_? You've been my servant for _years_ and you actually never asked yourself _why_ we wear those amours? It never even occurred to you, did it? They're to protect us against _swords_ and...Oh, that's right... ARROWS!"

"Eur... I just saved your life... you... ungrateful... _prat_," Merlin muttered back. It wasn't his best insult, but he had the excuse of having just been shot.

"You didn't save my life," replied the prince. "You only nearly got yourself killed."

Merlin saw Arthur raise his hand towards him in a blur, but he was too late to stop the movement. Without any warning, the prince took hold of the arrow in his shoulder and _pulled_.

"Wait, don't!" yelled Merlin.

The rest of this sentence turned into a scream of pain. His whole body shuddered violently and he lost his sight for a few seconds.

"You don't... just... yank it out!" he let out while at the same time fighting an urge to pass out.

Arthur wasn't even paying attention. He was too busy speaking rapidly to Lancelot.

Now it was Gwaine's turn to kneel in front of him. He was holding a long piece of red cloth in his hand and he was also smiling widely.

"I don't think this is funny," snorted Merlin.

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at _myself_. I don't know if that's any help, but I think I'm even stupider than you are, Merlin," replied Gwaine.

"That's no help at all," Merlin grumbled weakly.

The knight leaned forward and tied a tight bandage around Merlin's shoulder. The young warlock could feel blood flowing out of the wound and fast. If only he could be alone for a few minutes, then he could try some healing magic, though he wasn't sure that he had enough strength for such spells. And then he thought of Kilgharrah. The Great Dragon had healed him before. If only he could call him...

"Your horse, Sire," said Elyan quite suddenly.

Merlin cranked his head around and saw Arthur already on his saddle on the tall brown steed. Gwaine and Percival were now hoisting Merlin up towards Arthur.

"You've got to be joking," mumbled Merlin between two moans of pain.

"We're riding back to Camelot just you and me," Arthur said in a playful tone, which Merlin knew was just a way to hide his apprehension.

Merlin did not feel he had the strength to protest. The pain was so intense now that it was blocking out everything else. He couldn't tell if it was day or night, sunny or rainy, warm or cold. He wasn't even sure how he was managing to stay seated on a horse. Was that Arthur's _arm_ across his _chest_? _Oh he's never going to let me forget that_, thought Merlin miserably.

"We'll be just behind you," said Gwaine. "But don't look back. Don't stop until you reach Camelot."

It was the last thing that Merlin heard before they took off. Arthur kicked his horse hard and Merlin felt his head jerk backwards. They rode faster than Merlin had ever seen. He must have passed out at some point because when he opened his eyes again it was almost dark. He could see the glow of a pale moon showing them the way.

The rest of the trip was lost to him. When he came around again, he was looking at Arthur's face and at Gaius' hunched-over silhouette, but he was so tired that he fell into a deep undisturbed sleep. He quite lost the trace of time until he was forced to awaken again to take a sip out of a ghastly-tasting liquid. After that, he came around a few times, long enough to recognize the familiar surroundings, but his head was so heavy that he only managed to stay conscious for a few minutes and then he fell back into the blackness of his mind. He dreamt of Freya, of a peaceful lake as dark as her hair and of a cool breeze blowing on the grass on which they were both sitting…

And then, on a sunny morning, he felt the light on his face and his eyelids just fluttered open. As the room around him slowly came into focus, he realized that he was not in his bedroom but in _Gaius'_ bed, right in the middle of the physician's chambers. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating but the rest of his body seemed functional, if only a little stiff. His head wasn't throbbing, which he considered to be a good sign, so he decided to try and sit up.

He was glancing around the chambers, looking for Gaius, when his eyes found another figure propped against the wall. Gwaine was looking at him with piercing eyes.

"Welcome back," said the knight with a half-grin.

"Where's Arthur? And _Gaius_? How long was I out?" The questions were coming a little too fast for his dried mouth and he coughed a little.

But Gwaine wasn't paying attention to his question or to his need for a glass of water.

"I know you have magic. I've known since Morgana tried to take the throne and you destroyed the Cup of Life. I saw everything through a gap in the wall. I know about Gaius too, but apparently it's not such a well-kept secret. You, on the other hand... I can't wait to see the look on Arthur's face when he finds out."

"He mustn't know..." Merlin let out in a voice that didn't really sound like his own. His mouth was very dried.

"You don't need to tell me that," replied Gwaine. Crossing his arms on his chest, he leaned back against the wall nonchalantly. "You're going to live, by the way," he added with a smirk. "You've been out for a couple of days but it's only because you lost a lot of blood. Gaius was very really mad at Arthur for taking the risk to carry you all the way here. First time I've ever seen him this angry. He called him 'very foolish'. He must care for you a lot."

A swirl of images and emotions came back to Merlin in a flash as he recalled the events that took place in the village of Brome. He wanted to ask about Arthur and the villagers, and also about Morgana and Morgause, and if the other knights were all right, but all he could say to Gwaine was, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

The knight was staring very intensely at him. "I didn't know what kind you were."

"_Kind_?" repeated Merlin.

A shadow seemed to cross Gwaine's face. "I've seen a lot of things in my lifetime, Merlin. I've been places and I've seen people do crazy things all in the name of power. I once knew a good knight who turned to dark magic to put himself in the bed of another's wife. I saw a king unleash a terrible curse on his own people because they were protesting against his laws. I even met a man in a tavern who could not be killed. He was a man of fortune who was fair and generous and loved throughout the land, and then I found out that he was taking the lives of young girls to keep himself from dying. I took my sword and I cut his head right off."

Merlin was shaking his head in dismay. "Not all magic is like that," he murmured.

He saw Gwaine jump to his feet and stride towards him. Merlin felt so powerless. For many years, before coming to Camelot, he had thought of himself as a monster. Now it was as though Gwaine was throwing that back at his face. He knew that he wasn't evil or wicked, but he wasn't sure that he couldn't be corrupted. True, he had been able to resist Cornelius Sigan from taking him body and soul, but he could still be tempted by worldly things like gold or power; the very same things that Gwaine was describing.

He looked up only to find the knight gazing at him menacingly.

"I'll tell you from my perspective, Merlin. You have enough power to send a witch flying across the room just by yelling. You lie to your friends and your master so that you can sneak out and do your own stuff in secret. You conceal your magic and refrain from using it even when people's lives are at stake."

"You don't understand," said Merlin in a weak voice. But how could he defend himself? He didn't even have enough strength to sit up straight. "Arthur _can't_ know. No one can. There's too much at stake..."

"I'm not finished!" cut in Gwaine. "You trusted Lancelot and not me. I thought I was your friend. I was so mad at you, and then you had to do _this_."

"Do _what_?" asked Merlin, but before he could even produce a thought all the breath was knocked out of him by Gwaine's tight and brotherly hug.

"You're a brave – _brave – _man, Merlin! _Stupid_... but brave!" said Gwaine, his voice suddenly full of emotion.

"Did I miss something? Ow... hug... nice but... ow..." mumbled the young warlock.

"Sorry!" Gwaine yelled, pulling away instantly.

Merlin was too confused to even remember that he was thirsty or hurt. Gwaine was smiling so fondly at him that Merlin thought he might be blushing.

"I don't get it..." he began to say.

"No, Merlin. I'm the one who wasn't getting it and for that I am so, so very sorry. I thought you were tricky and selfish, but it was the other way around. You're the most _selfless_ person I know. I feel bad that you had to get hurt so that I could see you in a different light. Now I see the burden that you're carrying and it pains me that I couldn't share it with you. You must think I'm a _prat_ like Arthur, whatever that means."

Merlin felt stunned and completely speechless. It was as though for a short moment someone had removed all the loneliness and fear of having to keep his magic a secret. It seemed almost impossible that _anyone_ would react with such sympathy. It was truly a gift and he was grateful for it without measure. As he thought this, his eyes filled up with tears and he turned away to hide it. After all, Gwaine wasn't the kind of man to cry; he was much too strong for that.

The knight seemed to notice Merlin's uneasiness because he walked away from the bed and towards one of the worktables. When he came back, he was carrying a glass of water.

"I don't think you're a _prat_," said Merlin with a grin.

He was considering trying to get up or at least sit on the side of the bed when Gaius walked in.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing?" cried out the old man.

Gwaine made way for the physician who made such a fuss that Merlin had to abandon the idea of getting up altogether.

"Gaius, Gwaine knows…" he began to say as Gaius was bringing him another pillow and a horrible smelling tonic.

"Of course," said the old physician. "He told me he knew as soon as Arthur brought you in. And he also told me about Sir Leon's hand."

Merlin gulped down and tonic, made a disgusted grin, and then asked, "So how did I do?"

"_Perfect_," said Gaius while pressing a hand on his good shoulder, "Though you should have told Arthur _not_ to pull the arrow.

"Is he well enough to walk or ride?" Gwaine asked quite unexpectedly.

"Is something wrong?" inquired the young warlock as Gaius was making him wiggle his toes.

"I don't know what it's all about," said the knight, "but Arthur wants to see us all in the old ruins, at the _Round Table_, to be precise. He said as soon as you woke up. He also said that we should maintain absolute secrecy, but I trust I don't need to tell you how to keep something secret."

"Your injury is healing well, but your strength is not back yet," said the physician.

"I'll go," replied Merlin right away.

Gwaine glanced from him to Gaius. The physician bowed his head and did not offer any protest, so the knight left hurriedly.

"I know you don't agree…" Merlin began to say.

"Merlin, I'm going away for a while. Lord Agravaine, it seems, is close to finding the Four Elemental Stones and I cannot let that happen. A long time ago, just before you were born, the Stones were found but the information never reached Uther's ears. It was _I_ who concealed it from him and with another person's help we have kept the Stones secret for years. Now I must go and make sure no one can use such magic. Do you understand?"

Merlin felt his face grow pale. There was something ominous in Gaius' tone. It was strange as though he wasn't planning to come back.

"I should go with you."

"No, your place is with Arthur. Go to the Round Table. He's been secretive for the past few days. He's up to something. Don't worry about me. If Agravaine comes too close to the Stones, I will send him on a false trail. I've done it before. Besides, I have your amulet to protect me."

And then, before Merlin could even start an argument, Gaius picked up his bag which was already prepared and he left without one glance back and without even saying goodbye.


	8. Arthur and Merlin disagree

**Chapter 8: In which**** Arthur and Merlin disagree**

Merlin had never been so sore in his entire life; not even after one day of uninterrupted riding, not even after three hours of being Arthur's target during training. When he sat down at the Round Table, his legs were so tired that they were trembling, his eyes were heavy, his head was hurting and the slightest movement of his right arm felt like he was being stabbed by tiny daggers. He was so busy with catching his breath that he barely noticed it when Arthur arrived with Gwen at his arm and a stern expression on his face. The prince took a seat opposite Merlin and sat Gwen at his right while Elyan and Percival were lighting up torches.

"All right, Merlin?" said the prince. Merlin had not seen him this preoccupied since Camelot had been taken by an Immortal Army.

"Never better," muttered Merlin while rubbing his right arm in an attempt to calm the pain.

Arthur was glancing around. The light of the torches was casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Merlin hadn't really paid attention to it the first time but the old ruin had more in common with a graveyard than with a throne room. The walls were lined up with tables of stone which were really _tombs_. Most of them were wide opened and had probably been visited by grave robbers.

One by one, the knights came to sit down at the Round Table. Gwaine came to sit next to Merlin's right, Lancelot to his left, Elyan sat by his sister and Percival and Leon took the two seats on Arthur's left.

"Where's Gaius?" said the prince.

Merlin shifted on his seat and tried his best not to appear too anxious. "He said he had something important to do."

Arthur's eyes went wide and he clenched his fists. "What does he think _this_ is?"

Merlin felt defiant. "If he says it's important, then it's _important_."

"Not much we can do about it now," said the prince.

He passed a hand in front of his eyes and Merlin saw Gwen press a hand on Arthur's forearm, but it was Elyan who spoke up first.

"Why are we here, Sire?"

Arthur took a long breath before he spoke. _Oh this can't be good_, thought Merlin instantly.

"Agravaine – _Lord_ Agravaine – has found the Four Elemental Stones," said the prince without further delay. "You've all been watching him so I assume that you're all familiar with the Stones. He hasn't exactly been discreet about this plans, for some reason. If the blood of a magical creature is spilled at the center of the Stones, then somehow it could mean the end of all magic."

"Not to be rude or anything," Elyan began to say, "But do we _care_? I mean... It would mean the end of Morgause and Morgana. No more burning villages. No more monsters attacking Camelot again. _Ever_."

Merlin did not dare look at the faces around him, apprehending what was to come.

"I care..." said Lancelot, straightening up on his seat.

"So do I," added Gwaine with a quick glance in Merlin's direction.

"If it means that we have to sacrifice one innocent person, then I can tell you right now that we will not be considering this option," Arthur said solemnly. And then he added in a lower tone, "I will not sacrifice _Gaius_."

Everyone around the table fell silent. Merlin could hear water dripping in a nearby pool. Nobody was speaking. Even Sir Leon looked uncomfortable as he was absent-mindedly stroking his bandaged hand.

"You all know about Gaius?" Merlin couldn't help bursting out.

"It's only the worst kept secret in the kingdom," said Percival cheerfully.

Gwaine was glancing at Arthur and Gwen holding hands and he added with a grin, "_Second_ worst."

The young warlock had to refrain from bursting out laughing. It was simply ridiculous. They all knew, including Arthur, and none of them had said anything or accused him or tried to arrest him. They all seemed to think that the old physician could be both a sorcerer and a good man. Merlin was suddenly tempted, despite his better judgment and the Great Dragon's warning, to shout out loud about his own magic here and now and get it over with. He had never in his life felt so sure that he would be accepted, or at least be allowed to live.

He still had the smile stamped on his face when Arthur suddenly leaned forward on the table and pointed his finger at him.

"By the way, _Merlin_, if you ever keep something like that from me again I will _kill_ you."

"Great," he said happily, but then his smile faded away and he wasn't so sure about revealing his magic anymore.

"I tried to talk Agravaine out of it," Arthur continued, "but he's quite stubborn. And I can't disagree with him in public. He's my uncle and he also has a claim on the throne. If there's a split between us, some of our allies will side with him and we will go to war. This only leaves us with one option. We must get to the Stones before Agravaine does."

"Sire, didn't you say that Lord Agravaine has found the Stones already?" asked Sir Leon with a concerned face.

Arthur nodded. "I did. He knows the name of the village and he has a head start because he just left as we were coming here. However, he does not know exactly where the Stones are within that village. And, as weird as it may sound, we do have the advantage of having someone with us who knows the village well."

Merlin almost felt Arthur's meaningful glare as the prince turned his eyes to him.

"What? _Ealdor_? The Stones are in _Ealdor_," he blurted out.

Arthur rolled his eyes up. "Yes, _Ealdor_. And I'm guessing that he found out about that place while you were passing out after being shot."

"It's where you grew up?" Gwaine said incredulously.

Arthur stood up from his seat as all eyes turned to Merlin. He walked around the came to stand in front of him, leaning one hand on the Round Table.

"Come on, _Merlin_. You spent your childhood there, playing in the fields, sneaking out to avoid doing your chores. Didn't you ever once notice four unmovable stones with strange symbols on them?"

Merlin tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Maybe they don't have any weird symbols. I think you're making that part up."

Arthur banged his fist on the table. "Dawn it, _Merlin_! This is not a good time for jokes. Try to think with your brain for once!"

"As opposed to thinking like a knight?" he replied with a grin.

"This is serious, Merlin!"

"All right, all right!"

In truth, Merlin's brain _was_ already working. He knew that Gaius was on his way now to Ealdor if that was indeed where the Stones were. But why had Gaius not told him about Ealdor? Merlin raked his brain to find the explanation but seeing Arthur pacing impatiently in front of him wasn't making it easy. Moreover, he was feeling increasingly worn out and the impending danger wasn't improving his condition.

He decided to close his eyes.

In his mind, he could see the stream where his mother used to wash clothes while he was making waves using magic. He could also see the fields where he used to make the wind twirl and create ribbons of flowers petals in the air to impress the village's children. He could also see in his mind's eyes the clearing where he and his mother had spent many hours around a book and a few precious sheets of parchment so that Merlin would learn how to read and write. It had been in the same clearing that Will had discovered his magic. He had instinctively been able to heal the broken wing of a fallen bird. Will had been the first person to notice that his eyes had turned gold. To impress Will, he had tried to move a stone and failed miserably...

His eyes snapped open and he took a long breath as though he was just emerging from deep water. His head was pounding painfully now. "I know where the Stones are," he said in a murmur.

The sound of Arthur picking up his sword seemed to wake everyone up.

"Let's saddle up!" he called to the knights. "We must ride without stop if we are to beat Lord Agravaine to the Stones."

The knights' response to his command was instantaneous. Right away, they were gathering their bags, swords and red capes. Gwen immediately started to help Arthur putting on his chain mail. That would normally have been Merlin's job except that his right arm wasn't functioning.

"Does Merlin have to go?" he heard Gwen whisper to Arthur's ear. "He's not recovered yet. He's going to fall off his horse."

"I'm afraid we need his knowledge of the landscape," Arthur whispered back. "If we can keep him awake that long..."

There were a few smiles after that comment, yet some uneasiness remained. Elyan was shaking his head as he was buttoning up his coat.

"I still think that the _end of all magic_ has a nice sound to it," he said under his breath.

When the other remaining knights remained silent, he continued. "I've traveled. I've been in parts of the world where magic is still used and I've seen some crazy things, _evil_ things. And I know that Gwaine has too. Am I the only one who thinks this is worth talking about?"

He glanced around, waiting for the reply. Gwen shot him a scolding look before returning to fastening Arthur's sleeves.

"I already said that we will not be considering this option," said Arthur without even looking up. His tone was grave.

"Are you ordering us to do as you say?" Elyan burst out fiercely. "Because I thought this Round Table was about all of us being equals. It's been a while since you've treated us like equals. Everything nowadays is about keeping nobles like Agravaine and Lords and princes in far away kingdoms happy. You should look into your own lands more closely."

"Watch what you're saying!" Arthur replied threateningly. "I am the Crown Prince and Heir to the Throne and you owe me your allegiance."

"And _you_ should do what's right for your people!" shouted Elyan.

Silence fell between them. This was not their first argument and Merlin was forced to acknowledge that the prince was getting better and better at controlling his temper. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he was spending so much time with Gwen, or maybe he was turning more and more into the ruler that he was destined to be. Yet the topic of magic was always a painful issue for Merlin as he had not seen any signs that Arthur had different inclinations than his father. And that, above everything else, was the source of many nightmares in which he was revealing his magic and burning on the pyre the very same day.

"I care about my people," said Arthur. "I do not want to see them suffer. I know the evil you speak of because I have seen it as well. But I cannot sacrifice Gaius even if it would serve a greater purpose."

Elyan seemed taken aback by Arthur's resolute tone and he bowed his head low in answer.

"I'm sorry," muttered the young knight. "I know that he is your friend even though he is a sorcerer. My intention was not to speak against him."

Prince Arthur walked around the table to press a comforting hand on Elyan's back. "And you are right," he said solemnly. "I have neglected my people and my knights. In this room are perhaps the most honorable people that I have ever met." He grinned maliciously. "Except Merlin who is a lousy servant, but a loyal friend, and who will be a great physician... but not right now, which is why we need to save Gaius."

Now it was Merlin's turn to receive pats on the back from the knights. Gwaine and Lancelot seemed happy and supportive. Yet Merlin's mood wasn't improving. He wanted to cross his arms stubbornly on his chest as a sign of protest but his right arm was throbbing therefore he sank lower in his seat, brooding.

Only Gwen seemed to notice his changed attitude. _Great,_ thought Merlin bitterly_. I want at least someone to notice. Because this is so wrong..._

"In case you haven't noticed, _Merlin_, I've just paid you a compliment," said the prince with his most self-satisfied air.

Merlin clenched his left fist. "You are such a _hypocrite_," he blurted out. He was quite stunned at his own boldness.

"I beg your pardon!"

"You talk about saving Gaius, yet you condemn his kind to burn at the stake. He's a sorcerer! You may sound all _noble_ when you talk about rescuing him, but it's all fake since according to _your_ laws he is all guilty as the rest of them."

"My _father's_ laws..." Arthur began shouting.

"They're _your_ laws now!" Merlin cut him off. "What will you do after you've rescued Gaius? Will you throw him in the dungeons as the Witchfinder did? And what about all of the others who have magic? You can't save and condemn at the same time. You have to make a decision. It's either one or the other. It's can't be both!"

He was shouting in spite of himself. Arthur was so put off that it was almost awkward to watch. The prince pressed his fingers against his eyelids and Merlin could almost see through his shaking hand the battle that was going on inside.

"Now is not the time, Merlin..." he began to say, his voice barely audible.

"You've put this off for far too long," replied the young warlock.

"You're asking me to change everything in a heartbeat," muttered the prince. Merlin was shocked at how unsteady his voice was. "And... I _can't_."

"What if it was me?" said Merlin. "What if I had magic?"

The prince merely snorted. "Don't be an idiot. Come on, Merlin. We have a long way to ride."

The prince glanced one last time at Gwen and then started to make his way towards the outside. The other knights followed in silence. _This is it_, thought Merlin. He could feel the wind changing inside him. Something was happening to the deep magic. Perhaps it was his destiny and Arthur's settling into their rightful places. Whatever was happening, he couldn't ignore it anymore.

Slowly, he rose from his seat, he was alone now, and he followed the others outside. They were mounting their horses and Lancelot was bringing Merlin's stallion to him. The young warlock had never been so terrified in his entire life. He opened his mouth twice but could not speak. The third time would be decisive. When he spoke, his voice didn't even sound like his own.

"I have magic."


	9. Gwaine has another surprise

**Chapter 9: In which**** Gwaine gets another surprise**

"I have magic."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," said Arthur without turning around.

Merlin could see Gwaine and Lancelot's appalled faces but he decided to ignore them.

He took a step forward. The sunlight was making him blink. "I have magic. It's true. _Wow_… I can't believe I just said that."

Just to say those words out loud was making him strangely liberated and dazed at the same time. Or perhaps it was his wound and the lost of blood that was making him feel dizzy.

Arthur stopped short as he was about to get on his horse. "We don't have time for this."

"He's not well," offered Lancelot tentatively.

"I'm well enough to know when I'm being ignored by a _prat_," snapped Merlin.

But as he spoke, a wave of light-headedness took him over and he swayed on the spot, almost unable to stand. His legs were strangely unresponsive and his eyelids were extremely heavy now.

Arthur was watching him with concern.

"You're right, Lancelot. He must be out of his mind," said the prince.

He then took a few long strides towards Merlin. He was close enough to be able to stare at his nose.

"You need to tell us where the Stones are, Merlin."

"Why don't you let Agravaine find them and be done with magic forever?" he said defiantly. "Isn't that what you want?"

Arthur looked as though he was about to hit him.

"No!" Gwaine yelled suddenly. He stepped in between Arthur and Merlin. He was staring into the young warlock's face as though he was seeing him for the first time. "You'll die! All of those with magic will die. You don't want that. You're not a monster, Merlin. Tell us where the Stones are. _Please_."

Merlin closed his eyes in tiredness and resignation. Had he done a terrible mistake shouting out about his magic like that to Arthur and to everyone? It all seemed like a dream or a nightmare into which he was now trapped. If only he wasn't feeling so faint, at least he would be able to think straight…

"Follow the road, pass the main houses, keep going until you reach a stream, and then follow the stream up until you reach a clearing. The Stones are covered in moss and we used to sit on them and make a fire in the middle."

Gwaine took him by the shoulders just in time as he swayed on the spot and almost fainted right into the knight's arms. It took Merlin a few seconds to recover his senses. He glanced up over Gwaine's shoulder and tried to make out Arthur's expression. The prince wasn't concerned at all; instead, he was wearing a look of total disbelief.

"Did you just say that you _have magic_?" he blurted out.

"Now is not the time," said Lancelot in his usual even and soothing voice. "Sire, we have to hurry. Merlin's not well enough to ride. Gwaine can stay here with him."

Arthur considered the option for a moment, and then, without a word, he turned his heels and ran to his horse. He called the knights to him and they were off swiftly. They were out of sight before the dust had even settled down.

Merlin sank with his back to the stone wall and remained seated there, waiting for his strength to return.

"I don't know what's got into you," said Gwaine, peering into his face. "You kept this all bottled up for so long. Are you sure about throwing it all away now? If it was me I would have said something a long time ago, but then again I'm not you…"

"You haven't told anyone about your father being noble," argued Merlin in a weak voice.

"True," said Gwaine, sitting nonchalantly next to Merlin. "But if I did, it wouldn't change many things for me. Are you sure you're ready?"

Merlin snorted. "I'm not even sure he believed me."

"He will if you show him…"

Gwaine didn't finish that thought. Probably he had just realised that Merlin wasn't paying much attention anymore. The young warlock was feeling an increasing and overwhelming sense of urgency. He could almost see the thread of wavering magic in front of his waking eyes. It was calling him, pulling him, telling him to hurry.

"What is it?" said Gwaine.

Merlin did not reply. Instead, he struggled to his feet, grabbing his right shoulder as he stood, and then he took a few steps away from Gwaine. He braced himself for what he was about to do.

Placing his feet firmly apart and bowing his head, he reached inside him to find that deep well of power that he shared with the Great Dragon. As usual, the voice that came out of his mouth was partly his own and partly something else, something ancient and powerful; the voice of a Dragonlord.

"What did you just do?" yelled Gwaine as he was running up to him.

"Just… Don't move," Merlin replied shakily.

He was panting from the effort. Calling upon his Dragonlord power was always somewhat draining. But at least it had worked and soon after Kilgharrah was flying over their heads, swooping down and landing in front of Merlin in a swirl of wind.

"You're a _Dragonlord_ too!" shouted Gwaine.

Merlin tried not to look too smug.

"I see you have entrusted your secret yet to another," the dragon said slyly. Kilgharrah was leaning in to get a closer look at Gwaine. "Strength, Courage and Magic," he continued. "The cycle is complete. Many things are changing now."

"I might have told a few others too," said Merlin. And then he added apprehensively, "_Arthur_."

Kilgharrah's large head came to face him, his tail sweeping the dusty ground as he moved.

"Like I said, young warlock, many things are changing."

"What do you know about the Four Elemental Stones?" Merlin asked without further ado.

The dragon straightened up. "That is ancient magic. The Stones are a gateway that opens up with magical blood. The blood is the key that can change the flow of magic into this world."

"Lord Agravaine is on his way to the Stones now," said Merlin to the dragon.

The reply that he got was a loud snarl. "That man cannot wield the Stones! Knowledge is not the same as true power. A High Priestess of the Old Religion could perhaps…"

"High Priestess?" cut in Merlin. "Like Morgause? She's seeking the Stones too!"

He could recall the words spoken inside his head. _Soon, I will be all right again and together we will bring about the end of Camelot. Soon we will have the Four Elemental Stones and we shall have revenge._

The dragon became stern. "This is grave news. If she can channel the power of the Stones to her advantage, she will become so powerful that even you will not be able to stop her. Merlin, you cannot let this happen."

The young sorcerer nodded. "You must take us to Ealdor," he said gravely.

"Wait!" put in Gwaine all-of-a-sudden. "He's hurt. Can't you do anything for him? Aren't dragons powerful healers?"

Kilgharrah glanced from Gwaine to Merlin. "Hold still," he breathed out.

The wave of magic produced by the Great Dragon seemed to wrap itself around him like a warm blanket. The wound on his shoulder started prickling and itching, but decreasingly as though someone was putting out a fire. His head became less heavy and the throbbing stopped. The dragon wouldn't be able to take away the exhaustion, but at least he was much more alert now that he didn't have to deal with the pain.

"Thank you," he said, already on the move. "Now we need you to fly fast."

"If this is to become a recurrent thing, young warlock, I will draw the line at _two_ people on my back," snarled the dragon.

Gwaine's expression went from shock to complete terror, but Merlin had already climbed unto Kilgharrah's scaly body and now he was leaning down to offer Gwaine his hand.

The knight grinned enthusiastically. "You've got to be _joking_…"


	10. Gaius must keep another secret

**Chapter 10: In which**** Gaius must keep another secret**

When Gaius knocked on Hunith's door, he knew that he didn't have much of a head's start. Agravaine was a smart man. He had only had to question a few of the older servants and to gather the facts and find out the location of the Four Elemental Stones. If he was any smarter, he would ride through the night with only a few men. And if Arthur was the perfect knight that Gaius hoped he was the prince would show up just moments after. Merlin would be with him of course; and then things could potentially go very wrong from there.

Hunith's face grew pale as she peered at him. "Gaius? What's wrong? Has something happened? _Merlin_…?"

"My dear child," Gaius said calmly, "I'm afraid an old story is on its way to haunt us. Lord Agravaine is coming to Ealdor in search of the Four Elemental Stones."

He watched as her face turned from worry to shock. "And Merlin?" she said as she closed the door behind him.

"Following Arthur like a shadow, as always," said the old man.

Hunith offered him a seat and a hot drink but Gaius said no to both. Although he was exhausted after the long ride, he felt too agitated to even sit. He expected that his appearance was a mess, but even that was of little importance compared to the urgency of the situation. Hunith seemed to understand and she went behind a curtain to tie her hair and put a shawl over her nightgown.

"Does Agravaine know that if he means to end all magic, he will be killing Merlin as well?"

"No," replied Gaius right away. "Merlin is still just a lowly servant to him. That is why I have come. Agravaine must not find you here or he will make the connection. You must stay hidden."

"I took an oath in the tradition of the Old Religion to protect the Stones at all costs," said Hunith, emerging from behind the curtain, a defiant look on her face.

For a moment, Gaius was forced to remember the woman that he had met in Camelot so many years ago; a young educated Lady who at her mother's death had been thrown into the arms of a father who didn't love her and who had plans to marry her to a brute old enough to be her grandfather. Ygraine had been her only confident then and at her death, Hunith had become remote and defensive, shutting out everyone and professing the love for the simple peasant's way of living without the grief of having a queen for a half-sister. Hunith had changed much: her face was older, her hands were worn, her clothes were thorn, but the fire in her eyes was the same it had been then when he had offered her the chance of a second life.

"Things have changed, Hunith," the old man said gravely. "Merlin is more important than we both imagined he would be. I can protect the Stones but you, _My Lady_, must stay away from your _brother_."

Gauis almost regretted saying these words. This was a woman who had suffered much in her life, and now he was bringing it al back to her.

"We mustn't bring Merlin into this," Hunith said in a whisper.

Gaius stepped closer to her. He wanted to comfort her as a parent would. She had lost so much in her life. The news of Balinor's death, which Gaius had brought to her after the events, had been yet another blow. If only she knew what a precious gift her son was to him, a chance for an old man guilty of many crimes to make amends, than perhaps she would not have such a disgusted look on her face now.

"_Hannah_," whispered Gaius. "That is your real name. You are the Lady Hannah. Agravaine is your brother. Ygraine was your half-sister. Prince Arthur is your nephew and your son has a claim on the throne."

"Why do you speak of this now?" she voiced out and Gaius could tell that it was difficult for her just to be reminded. "You know that I have renounced those things. I hated that life more than I can say. It is not who I am anymore."

"I know," said Gaius, his voice only a murmur. "When you left, it was to protect the Stones and gain a new life. If I'm here tonight, it is merely to help you protect that which you cherish."

She paced around him, looking anxious. Since she had ceased to be Lady Hannah to become Hunith, a simple peasant woman, there had been little signs of her true heritage in her appearance. Yet a sort of nobility remained in her demeanour and speech. It was the result of being brought up as a Lady, as was her ability to read and write. It was not a coincidence that Merlin possessed more skills than a normal servant: she had passed on some of what she had been taught to him.

"I know that you mean well, Gaius. It's just been so hard. If this is the life that I chose for myself, it is not the one I would pick for Merlin. When he was younger, everyday there were signs that he was meant for something greater. It was in his determination to salvage an injured animal, to settle conflicts without swords, to find a spot of sunlight when it was raining, to keep the fire going when the winter was cold and wet. He never had any inclinations to become a farmer but he always wanted to belong, as though in his heart he knew that he didn't. I taught him to read and write at a young age so that he may other choices or in case my inheritance came to haunt him. There is so much that I should tell him but I feel I would just be taking away that which he now loves. He loves Camelot; that much I know. If anyone finds out about him, about his being Prince Arthur's cousin, another heir to the throne, he would loose everything. His _life_ would be in danger."

She had joined her hands together now and Gaius suspected that it might be because she was shaking.

"I _know_," said Gaius, pressing both his hands against hers. This time he tried to make his voice as comforting as possible. "This is why I am here to tell you to leave the Stones and Agravaine to me, no matter what happens."

She was gazing at him with pleading eyes. "Gaius, I've kept things from him about his father as well. He will never forgive me."

"Then you don't know your son," Gaius said calmly. "He does not know how to hold a grudge. He's the most selfless and kind-hearted person I know, but he is something more as well. You did the right thing by keeping his magic and the truth about his birth hidden. The likes of him, I have never seen or thought possible, but the truth is in his _blood_."

Hunith's eyes were tearful and she gasped at the word. "_Blood_?"

Gaius pulled out a small glass phial from his travel cloak pocket. It was transparent and filled with the dark red liquid.

"I tested it again and again," the old physician explained. "There is old magic in Merlin's blood, older than dragons, older perhaps than the Stones. If it comes to it…"

"No," Hunith sobbed quietly. "You mustn't speak of my son that way..."

"_If it comes to it_," repeated Gaius with more conviction, "I will use that blood to undo whatever evil Agravaine has done. Merlin's blood holds the key and no one will have to know it was him."

She came to stand before him and took his hands in hers. She was cold and shaking. Gaius suddenly wished he had come to trouble her. He could have gone to the Stones right away...

"You are a good friend," Hunith said softly. "I cannot thank you enough for what you did for Merlin, and most of all for keeping him secret."

Gaius pressed his hands on her shoulders, trying to be as comforting as he could.

"And I will continue to watch over him," he said, his voice full of emotion. "I must go now. Stay here. Stay hidden. Do not open to anyone."

And on that last recommendation, he turned towards the door and left, vaguely wondering if he should have come at all. He took the path across the village and pulled his horse along beside him, too tired to even try to get on it. The clearing, he knew, wasn't far. He would be able to find his way there even in the dark.

As he walked his thoughts started to dwell on the mysterious destiny of his young ward, and he wondered in spite of himself if he had the right to interfere at all. After all, who was he but an old man without family or title? His part in the story of Camelot was almost over. He felt increasingly old and weary and to see Merlin take on more of his duties was making him feel even more like his time was ending. His future as the young warlock's mentor seemed uncertain. His knowledge of magic was mostly related to herbs, healing potions, some notions about the balance of nature and a few enchantments. What was required of Merlin, what he was bond to face soon, would require a different skill altogether. To defeat Morgause and Morgana, to stop such forces of darkness, Merlin would have to learn to feel rather than touch, know rather than learn and act rather than watch. There was no doubt that Merlin already had these abilities in him, but he had yet to explore his full potential. Whether or not the old physician would be there to witness his pupil become the great warlock that he was destined to be, that was a different question altogether.

It is with those gloomy thoughts that he reached the clearing. And it was only when his torch was lit that he discovered, to his great dismay, that he was not the first to reach the Stones.

**Author's note:**

**This was a boring chapter, I know, but useful to the plot. So hang on because the real action in coming up. It should take me a few days to post ****the next one. Sorry for the long wait…**

**Please review and tell me what you think of the story so far…**

**Thanks,**


	11. Agravaine's plan goes wrong

**Chapter 11: In which Agravaine's plan goes wrong**

Gaius' eyes went wide as he saw in the dark outlines of six guards and Lord Agravaine standing just on the other side of the clearing.

"Gaius!" cried out Arthur's uncle as casually as if they were crossing path in a corridor. "We've been expecting you! Where have you been?"

All that the physician could do was to stare back as Agravaine gave the order to light torches and look for the Four Elemental Stones. Gaius had expected that Lord Agravaine would be alone. The fact that he had brought guards with him was going to make matters more difficult. He had hoped to be able to persuade Agravaine that he had made a mistake, that his assumptions about the Stones were wrong. He hadn't expected a fight being just an old man with only feeble magical abilities. Agravaine, on the other hand, was a knight of the realm and an heir to the throne. The guards were sworn to protect him and Gaius knew, since Arthur had trained his men so well, that they would not hesitate to take him out especially if the physician, no matter how old, was caught doing magic.

"Come on, Gaius! Do not look so put out!" said the uncle as he took a few steps into the clearing. "You knew this day would come. This was always meant to be the final step of the Great Purge. You should be glad that you've lived long enough to see this."

Gaius tried to remain calm. "How did you know that the Stones were in Ealdor, Sire?" he asked bluntly.

"I didn't," replied the knight. "I merely mentioned that I knew the name of the village. You, my friend, assumed the rest all on your own. All that I had to do was to follow your lead."

Gaius felt his stomach tighten with shame. With all his years of experience, he had still been manipulated like a youngster, and by a noble too. He had often been the witness of trickery and deceit among those of royal blood, but to be at the center of such a plot was more disarming than he would have thought.

"We have found the first stone, Sire!"

Two of the guards were bent over a heap of earth and moss. Agravaine immediately rushed to their side and kneeled on the grass. He started to brush the rock clean with his glove. Gaius knew right away from the level of agitation that he had indeed found one of the Stones.

_Fine_, the physician thought grimly. _He may have found the Elemental Stones, but he still needs to spill magical blood._

The guards were running around the clearing now and with Lord Agravaine at the lead. With their gloves and the tip of their swords, they were unearthing the four stones; this mostly meant to pull branches and clean out the dirt and moss that had build up over the years. Four rocks, the size of small stools, were now visible under the glow of the torches. They were standing in the precise directions of North, East, South and West just as Gaius remembered, but other than that they did not bear any special markings. To the casual farmer or traveler stopping in this clearing, these stones were quite plain. One had to know their secret to guess their importance. And from the way Agravaine was beaming when he came striding towards the physician, it was clear that he knew, as Gaius did, the power had he just uncovered.

"This is incredible!" he cried out, throwing his arms in the air. "Up until now, the Four Elemental Stones were just a legend, something my father would talk about around a family dinner. To see the Stones with my own eyes... It is like something out of a dream!"

"Have you thought of the consequences, my Lord?" Gaius asked sternly. "What about all of those lives that you are about to destroy?"

The change in Agravaine's face was almost instantaneous. "And what has magic ever brought to this kingdom? What has magic ever done for my family? For _Ygraine_? What you call magic, I call _pain_ and _despair_. The world will be a better place without witches, dark creatures and evil curses."

"It won't be just monsters," Gaius said more forcefully. "You will be killing innocent people as well, including women and children."

He couldn't help thinking about Merlin. The young warlock had called himself a monster on more than one occasion. Gaius knew now that whatever Merlin was could not be evil. He was kindness and light. He was hope and salvation. There was a purpose for his magic, which was precisely the kind of understanding of the Old Religion that Agravaine did not possess.

"_Killing_? Who said anything about _killing_?" Agravaine snarled with an evil grin on his face. "Perhaps they will be just impaired or wounded. Perhaps they will not feel it at all. I know what you're thinking, Gaius: _he doesn't know what he's doing_. But I do, you see. I'm going to _end all magic_. The means by which this happens does not concern me; only the outcome. The lost of lives that may or may not happen is regrettable but necessary. But how can _you_ pretend to know anything about such magic, Gaius? Is there something that you're trying to tell me?"

"But you said..." stuttered the physician, taken aback. "When you spoke to Prince Arthur..."

Agravaine merely rolled his eyes up. "I thought that he was like his father, but clearly I was wrong. Uther would have been thrilled about the Stones. He would have sent his whole army out and killed the traitor who failed to give him the information all those years ago. But Arthur… is still so _naive_. In many ways, he's just a boy, much like your _Merlin_."

Now he really didn't want to get into that topic.

"You still need to spill magical blood for the power of the Stones to be unleashed." He was trying his best not to sound too shaken or nervous.

Agravaine smiled maliciously. "Don't worry, Gaius. We have a special guest. Speaking of which, you didn't think that I would come here unprepared, did you?"

The knight immediately turned around and strode to the other end of the clearing where the guards were bringing a cart that Gaius had not seen before. Agravaine then pulled a black cloth to reveal a head of long blond curls belonging to a woman.

The words "Are you mad?" came out of Gaius' mouth but Lord Agravaine was paying little attention. He was pulling something else from the cart: a long staff with a red stone at its end. It was the same kind of magical weapon as the one Merlin had once taken from a dangerous Sidhe.

Gaius had reached the cart before he even realized it. First, he needed to know if it really was Morgause. Secondly, he had to make sure that Agravaine was not loosing his mind.

"Is she dead?" he whispered close enough so that only Agravaine would hear.

"See for yourself," replied the knight.

Gaius bent over Morgause's unconscious body to get a clear look at her face. Her left cheek and eye were badly swollen, her skin was pale, her lips were dried, but her chest was going up and down steadily. She was physically broken and not much of a threat, but she was at least alive. The real question was therefore this: where was her guardian?

"You took her from Morgana," said Gaius.

He glanced rapidly across the clearing, trying to see through the darkness. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks, but he was suddenly feeling as though he was being watched.

"It wasn't that hard. Morgana has been following the rumors about the Stones like breadcrumbs. I provided her with a real target when I brought Arthur to the village of Brome. I knew nothing less would persuade her to leave Morgause unprotected. That's when I took her. By the time Prince Arthur reached Camelot with Merlin, it was already a done deal. That diversion, Merlin getting shot, really helped me shake off Gwaine and Lancelot who were on my back, now that I think of it. They're all very fond of your Merlin, aren't they? Bit strange considering he's just a servant."

"It was too easy," muttered Gaius more to himself than to Agravaine. "What purpose would Morgana have in allowing you to take Morgause?"

But his glance was drawn to a moving shadow and the question remained unanswered. A tall, dark silhouette had now appeared at the center of the clearing. She was shrouded in a thick cloud of smoke and it took at least a whole minute before the guards actually noticed her.

"Halt! Don't move!" yelled the guard who saw her first.

She only had to raise her hand to send the man flying backwards and crashing violently into the trees.

"My Lord!" cried the second guard, clearly hoping the Agravaine had some instructions to give them.

The knight replied nothing. Instead, Gaius saw him discreetly grab a firm hold on the staff with the red stone.

Meanwhile, Morgana had already gotten rid of all of the guards. There were now all lying on the ground, some of them in unnatural positions, which could only mean that they were either dead or severely injured.

"Gaius, how good of you to join us," snarled Morgana.

She pulled down her black hood and Gaius was forced to look into her eyes. He only stared at her for a few seconds and at that moment all of his hopes of seeing a trace of the old Morgana were shattered. Even with his feeble skills as a sorcerer, he could feel the dark magic around her and it made the hair at the back of his neck stand up. She was not the scared little girl that he had known, but a cold and fierce creature with a mind for revenge.

"It is _you_ who we were hoping to see Morgana," said Agravaine with a level of self-confidence that would normally have belonged to Arthur.

"You mean to spill _her_ blood?" asked Gaius in a murmur.

Agravaine answered with a large smile, and then he started to walk forward, holding the staff in front of him like a sword. As he was watching the scene, Gaius realized with horror that both Morgana and Agravaine were now standing in the middle of the clearing, which meant that they were in the center of the square created by the Elemental Stones, and if a single drop was spilled…

"Do you really mean to kill me with that staff, Lord Agravaine?" Morgana said with an evil smirk on her face.

Agravaine's attitude remained smug. "I only need _a little _of your blood, My Lady. And if you want her to live, you will comply with my wishes."

Morgana laughed an evil laugh. "No," she let out in a breath. "I _will not_ comply. I will not comply ever again, not to you, not to my father. It is _you_ who will comply."

Before Gaius could even react, Agravaine had swung the staff in front of him and he was aiming it towards Morgana. The powerful wave of magic struck with a flash of red light in the direction of the witch, but Morgana raised her hand almost instantly and the spell reverted back towards Agravaine. The knight was hit square in the middle of the chest and sent backwards by the force of the impact. As he landed on the ground with a loud _crack_, the staff flew from his hand and rolled on the grass, stopping halfway between the physician and the witch.

The knight who was Arthur's uncle had stopped moving, but his chest was moving normally underneath the chain mail. When Gaius glanced back at Morgana, hoping to see some kind of emotion, she was only smiling viciously.

"Now, Gaius, you're not going to stand in my way, are you? My sister is the one who will harness the power of the Stones. Surely you don't think that someone like you could, do you?"

_Not me_, Gaius thought instantly, _but someone that you can never suspect_. He was clenching the small phial containing Merlin's blood concealed within his left fist. A part of him wanted to avoid this at all cost, but in another part of his mind he knew that he was holding the right blood in his hand.

"I've never underestimated you, Morgana," Gaius said slyly. "I know what you are capable off, but the Stones will not cure Morgause. The Stones are merely a gateway. What Morgause will become is more powerful and more corrupt and you will not know your sister anymore. Do you really want to bring more evil into this world?"

Morgana was walking slowly towards the staff. She picked it up and the red stone at the end of it instantly began to burn with a red flame. Morgana's magic had become very powerful indeed.

"If this is Uther's world," she snarled, "then I will bring as much evil into it as I can."

Just as he was thinking about throwing the phial _now_, a shout made him stop short. Morgana must not have expected it because she froze all well. The malicious look on her face momentarily became one of shock, just before it turned into pure anger.

"Gaius!" screamed a familiar voice.

_No, Merlin!_ Gaius thought instantly, yet his voice remained locked in his throat.

The staff was a dangerous weapon, especially in Morgana's hand. The red beam that escaped it was blinding. The next thing that he knew he was surrounded in red light, with his two feet still firmly on the ground, and a strange tickling sensation around his neck.

**Author's**** note:**

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews! I'm glad this story is getting more fans!**

**Thanks also to the anonymous reviewers. I hope you come back!**


	12. Merlin saves the day

**Chapter 12: In which**** Merlin saves the day**

_The__ protective amulet_, thought Gaius as the red light that was surrounding him like a shield faded away.

He had expected to find himself face to face with Morgana, but instead it was Merlin who was standing before him with his left hand gesturing for him to get back. Gaius also saw from the corner of his eye the outline of a knight. The tall man was holding a sword but he also looked slightly shaken. How could Merlin and Gwaine possibly have gotten this far so fast?

"I won't let you hurt him," Merlin said defiantly.

"That's very brave, Merlin," snorted Morgana, "but as far as I know, Gaius is the sorcerer, not you." She twisted the staff in her hand, aiming it at Merlin.

"Morgana!" cried out Gaius in a desperate attempt to catch her attention. "It's me you want! Leave him out of this!"

But as he was shouting, he could already see the resolution in her eyes.

"I should have done this a long time ago," she said under her breath.

Swinging the staff, she sent another bolt of red light in the direction of Gaius and Merlin. The old physician did the only thing that he could think of in a split second: he jumped forward, grabbed Merlin's collar and pulled him backwards and unto the ground. Merlin rolled on his side as the streak of red light went crashing into a nearby tree. It could have hit Gwaine but the knight had moved out of the way as well and he was now crouching behind a large boulder. But in her haste, Morgana had almost hit the cart containing Morgause. The tree beside it was burning and she rushed to move the cart, thus giving her targets a short moment to recover their senses.

Gaius was now lying flat on the ground and staring into Merlin's face.

"You mustn't spill Morgana's or Morgause's blood," the physician said rapidly.

"I'm kind of worried about mine actually," said Merlin with a smirk.

"How's your shoulder?" inquired Gaius.

"Healed."

Before Gaius could ask anything else, the young warlock had jumped unto his feet. He was now gazing at the trees and muttering a complicated incantation under his breath. As Gaius struggled to his feet more slowly, he saw the branches in the trees surrounding the cart start to move unnaturally as though they had suddenly been given a life of their own. The branches were stretching down like claws and beginning to grab Morgana under the armpits and around her neck and waist. There was tugging and pulling, grabbing and scratching, until Morgana began to scream. One of the branches had also caught the magical staff. As it fell from her hand, Merlin muttered a single word that made the powerful weapon break in half.

She glanced around with a fierce look on her face. Suddenly and without a word, her eyes flashed gold and Merlin crash-landed straight into Gaius and they both crumbled down on the ground again.

Then another scream filled the air and to his dismay Gaius realised that it was Gwaine who was running towards Morgana with his sword in his hand.

"No, Gwaine, don't!" yelled Merlin.

But it was too late. Morgana had heard the shouting. She wheeled around and as her flashed gold again a wall of fire rose in front of the knight, so close that it almost touched Gwaine's nose. The flames were thick enough to shield Morgana and Morgause from view. The burning veil roared high into the sky, as high as the trees, and crawled on the ground, making its way around the clearing like a slithering snake. In a matter of seconds, the Four Elemental Stones and Morgause had been placed into a protective circle of fire that would require a lot of Morgana's energy just to keep under control. But the fact that she had to maintain such a powerful display meant that she would have to move Morgause in the center of the clearing using only normal means.

"I didn't see that coming," said Gwaine as he was running towards Merlin and Gaius.

The knight passed a hand on his head to wipe the ashes out of his hair.

"She's grown very powerful," Merlin breathed out. "She's so full of rage."

"Merlin, you shouldn't even be here," Gaius scolded him. "I told you to stay with Arthur. How did you get here so fast?"

"We _flew_," Gwaine let out with a grin. He then turned to Merlin, "You think you can take her?"

"I have to," he said with a surprising level of conviction. "This place feels different then when I was younger though. I don't know why…"

"It is you who is different," Gaius said calmly. If ever Merlin needed his council, it would be now. "You're more aware of your powers. The Four Elements are just another form of magic. You can control them. Merlin," – he wheeled the young warlock around by the shoulders so that they could be face to face –, "you can control this. You can wield the power of the Stones."

Merlin had gone very white. He was looking intently at Gwaine for support.

"How many times have you done things like this in secret?" the knight asked with a smirk. "If Gaius says that you can, then I'm behind you."

Merlin let out a long sigh as though he was gathering his strength. Gwaine gave him a pat on the back and said, "Good luck, mate. I don't want to be in your shoes right now," in his usual casual manner. And then Merlin began to walk towards the wall of fire.

Gaius only saw him from the back, but he was very proud of the way Merlin seemed determined to undo Morgana's dark magic. The young warlock raised both his hands towards the sky and started to speak words of the Old Religion that Gaius had never heard before. Suddenly, there was a clash like thunder and a heavy rain started to fall from the sky. The water started to fill Gaius' eyes. Gwaine and he became soaked in a matter of seconds. The wall of fire seemed to shrink and it was soon replaced by a white vapour, which Merlin washed away by conjuring a gush of wind that nearly made Gaius loose balance.

Morgana could now be seen in the middle of a circle of ashes, standing next to Morgause's cart which she had managed to move to the center. Her black hair was dripping and lying flat on her face and she threw Merlin one murderous look. Now she _knew_ who had thwarted her every plan.

The words that escaped her mouth made Gaius' heart sink. "It doesn't matter. You've already lost."

A dagger was gleaming in her hand, and at the tip of it, Gaius could see a filament of red blood.

Merlin's reaction was so fast that it caught Gaius off guard. The young warlock's eyes flashed gold and the Lady Morgana rose into the air as though the earth beneath her feet had spat her out. She rose higher and in the direction of the trees where the branches were alive once more and waiting to take hold of her. This time, there were more than a few branches. It was as if the whole clearing had come to life. The witch was sinking into the darkness of the forest when suddenly, in a scream of anger and perhaps a desperate attempt, she threw the dagger. Merlin was forced to release his hold on her, using his magic to catch the weapon in midair.

Gaius heard the Lady Morgana crash into the trees but something else had caught Merlin's attention. The old physician followed his gaze and saw right away where the danger was. Morgana had cut Morgause on the skin of her shoulder to take her blood and now the exposed wound was threatening to spill onto the ground.

Gaius, Gwaine and Merlin all ran towards the cart at once. Merlin pulled the dagger towards him with an invisible thread of magic as he ran. He caught the weapon safely in his right hand with a triumphant grin, but it was Gwaine who stopped the blood from flowing from Morgause's shoulder. Before Merlin or Gaius had even reached the cart, Gwaine had already tied a white handkerchief on the deep cut. The bandaged became instantly stained with red blood, but there was definitely not enough to spill unto the ground.

"I have a lovely maiden to thank for that," said the knight breathlessly as he leaned against the cart.

"Please don't tell me it's _Gwen_," said Merlin.

The young warlock was panting as well, but most likely it was from the powerful magic he had just performed.

"Are you kidding? Gwen is off limit. Arthur will put me in the stocks if I go near her. Not that you'd care. Rumour has it that you've got someone in mind by the name of Freya."

When Merlin shot him an inquiring look, Gwaine simply replied, "You talk in your sleep."

Gaius meant to ask about the name, but just as he was about to, they heard the sounds of horse hooves and raised voices.

"_Arthur_," said Merlin as an answer to their surprised glances.

"How can you be sure?" asked Gwaine.

"I can sort of feel him," Merlin said in a timid and slightly embarrassed voice. "I always know when he's around. We're sort of connected, magically speaking. Is that weird?"

Gwaine shot him a look that made Merlin blush. "That's the weirdest thing so far, Merlin, but I suppose I can live with it," he said cheeringly.

Gaius opened his mouth to add something, something important specifically about that connection to Arthur, but the potential for eavesdropping made him rethink about the circumstances in which he wanted to reveal that information. _Not yet, but Merlin will have to be told soon_… he thought bitterly.

"Well, I better tell the _princess_ to look for the Lady Morgana in those woods. He'll probably make you a knight for catching her all on your own."

Merlin scoffed but Gaius suspected it to be only a way to hide how honoured he felt that Gwaine thought that way. "I think I prefer being a physician's apprentice," he replied quite humbly.

"Suit yourself," said Gwaine, and then he was off.

Arthur did indeed show up a few seconds later riding his white horse. Lancelot, Elyan, Percival and Sir Leon were following his lead. Gaius' glance met Merlin's and he knew right away that they were thinking the same thing.

"Move the cart?" said Merlin.

"Better not take any chances," replied the old man.

Without much consorting, they both took a side of the cart and began to push it towards the opening of the path where Gaius had first arrived. As he glanced at Merlin's face, he thought that he saw a shadow behind the young warlock's eyes. The old man was thinking it as well: with Morgause and Morgana in custody, Arthur's choices were about to get a whole lot harder.

But at least now with the threat of Morgana gone, Merlin would have more time to finish his training and prepare for his new duties.

It was Arthur's voice, rising all-of-a-sudden from the other end of the clearing, which brought the physician back to reality.

"What do you mean by 'you _flew'_? Am I supposed to understand that? What the Hell happened here? Don't tell me it was _Merlin_! What did you do to my uncle? Merlin! MERLIN!"

Gaius turned his head to glance at Merlin but what he saw knocked the breath out of him.

Merlin's eyes were closed and his face was contorted in pain. Morgause's body fell sideways with a _thud_ and the dagger slipped from her twitching hand. It fell on the grass before anyone could stop it.

Merlin's hand grabbed the side of the cart and his fingers were wet with red blood. It was trickling down from his fingertips and unto the ground.

_Merlin's_ blood.

Trickling down.

The end of all magic.

"


	13. Gwaine cannot change fate

**Author's warning: much sadness involved. Better find yourself a nice and quiet place to read…**

**Chapter 13: In which Gwaine cannot change fate**

It was supposed to be a cheerful moment, a day to celebrate. They had caught Morgause and Morgana. And then there had been that scream, and everything had turned into despair.

Gwaine saw it happen from a distance and he was powerless to stop it. Morgause's movements were quick and to the point. He saw her take the dagger from Merlin's hand and then stab him on his side just below the ribs once, twice, and then a three times before collapsing back into the cart. Then Merlin had grabbed the cart, stared into Gaius' face and slipped from sight. Gaius was too shocked to move and it wasn't until his pupil had grumbled to the ground that he actually screamed. Gwaine ran so fast towards his fallen friend that he reached the cart before Gaius had even reached Merlin.

The knight's first action was to give the cart one massive push to move it out of the way. Immediately after, he threw himself on the ground and started to apply pressure on the wound.

"Give me a cloth! Anything!" he yelled at large.

"Take her away!" Arthur shouted. "I want her out of my sight!"

"Merlin, don't move," said Gwaine shakily.

Then he felt Gaius' hand on his arm and the old physician gave him a piece of cloth. Gwaine quickly put it under his right hand while maintaining his hold on Merlin's wound.

"More pressure," said Gaius in a weak voice.

Gwaine immediately leaned closer to apply more pressure, which resulted in Merlin letting out a scream of pain, but as he peered into Gaius' face he knew right away that something else was happening in the clearing. The old man had gone quite white and he kept glancing from the young sorcerer to the Four Stones.

"NO! MERLIN!" Arthur was shouting.

Gwaine could see the prince throwing himself forward and Lancelot trying to restrain him as best as he could.

"Keep him out of the way, Lancelot!" Gwaine shouted.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Merlin gasped. "What's that buzzing noise…?"

"You're imagining things," said Gwaine. "Your dragon will heal you, right?"

Merlin's eyes were looking up at the sky. "I can't feel him…" he murmured. Tears began to flow from his eyes and he whispered, "_What have I done_?"

His body twisted in pain and Gwaine felt compelled to look away. He looked down at his hands and saw that the blood was not clear red but black, which he knew to be a bad sign. It could mean that something vital had been stabbed. He had seen many battles in his life and even more battle wounds, death on the battlefield was cruel, and what he could tell from his experience was that Merlin's chances of survival were getting thinner by the second.

"Hang on, Merlin," Gaius said weakly.

"You're going to make it," Gwaine said as convincingly as he could.

Merlin turned his head slightly to stare into Gwaine's eyes. "Physician's apprentice, remember? Can't lie, Gwaine…" he managed to say through the pain he was certainly feeling.

Just then, to make matters worst, a sharp light filled the clearing as though lightening had struck. Arthur and Lancelot froze on the spot, the other knights drew out their swords, but Gwaine had to keep his hands steady so he remained as still as he possibly could. As soon as the light died out, it was the Stones' turn to glow. One of them became burning red, the other a gleaming green, the third a bright blue and the last one a radiant white. _These are the Four Elements all right_, thought the knight. _Fire, earth, water and air. What next?_

"Tell me," Merlin said weakly, his voice almost a murmur.

But Gwaine was only staring at Gaius. "What's that you said about controlling the Elements? You told him he could control the Stones. Well how does he do that?"

The old physician wasn't speaking. He looked totally lost. Merlin's body contorted in pain again. His face was pale and his lips were almost grey. Every minute was important now.

"Gaius!" yelled Arthur, "You're the physician! Do something! _Anything_! I beg you!"

It was very a useless thing to say, by Gwaine's standards, but at least it seemed to bring the old man back to awareness. Gaius moved closer on his knees and then he placed his hands over Merlin's wound and cried, "_Gestahole_!" His voice was strangely deeper and more forceful than anything Gwaine had ever heard, except perhaps when Merlin had spoken to the dragon.

When nothing happened, Gaius repeated the spell, tried another one, and another one, but the result remained invariably the same.

"It's not working," said Lancelot who still had a firm grip on Arthur's arm.

"It's not me," replied the physician. "It's the Stones. The magic is there but it's too weak for that kind of healing. It's like it's… _dying_."

"No… NO!" yelled Arthur.

"You can't die!" cried out Gaius forcefully and on top of Arthur's panicked screams.

The old physician then took the young warlock's face between his hands to stare at his eyes. Merlin looked as though he was barely half-conscious now. A tiny drop of blood had appeared in the corner of his mouth.

"It _can't be _you, do you hear me?" Gaius continued. "You can't be the one to _end all magic_. It's not your destiny. You _are_ magic, Merlin. That's how I know that you can control the power of the Stones. Magic is like a wind. It flows in and out of this world. You are standing in that gateway now. You have the power to decide which way it goes. Find that power, Merlin!"

As soon as he had finished his sentence, Gaius was pushed back by a deafening roar high above their heads. Gwaine turned his eyes up in time to see the dark outline of the Great Dragon soaring towards them. In a desperate attempt, Arthur broke free from Lancelot's grip and started to rush forward towards his dying friend, only to be stopped halfway there by Kilgharrah's swooping tail.

"I cannot handle you both," said the beast as he pinned the prince on the ground.

Arthur tried to pull himself up, but this time he stumbled down and Gwaine saw a look of pain on his face.

"I had to," said Kilgharrah as he swooped in closer to the knight. "Where he is going, Arthur cannot follow."

"Can you heal him?" cried out Gwaine. "He's been stabbed!"

_Something's __definitely wrong_, he thought as he watched the dragon draw closer. He had just flown on Kilgharrah's back and there was no way that he would have been able to stay seated if the dragon had been flying as he was now. Gwaine tried to think of a proper word but all he could think of was _drunk dragon_.

"Step aside!" roared the dragon. "I must take him. There is very little time left."

Without any other explanation, Kilgharrah's big monstrous claw came down where Gwaine was kneeling and grabbed Merlin as an owl would grab a mouse. He then flapped his large wings harder and rose into the night sky, still quite unsteadily.

"Wait! Where are you taking him?" shouted Gwaine.

He didn't even wait for an answer. Jumping to his feet, he ran across the clearing towards Arthur's horse. The prince was still lying on the ground, but Gwaine didn't even stop to make sure he was all right. Lancelot was there, and anyway Gwaine didn't want to loose sight of the dragon.

As soon as he was on the saddle, he kicked his horse hard in the direction that he had seen the dragon fly. Lucky for him, the sun had begun to rise and it was less dark in the woods now. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to follow the dragon at all. He rode without stopping and even without slowing down for quite a few long precious minutes until he lost sight of Kilgharrah as the dragon started to fly lower between the trees. And then, just when he was beginning to think that he wouldn't be able to find the dragon anymore, he heard the deafening sound as though someone was chopping down a tree and the ground rumbled under his horse's hooves, which caused the animal to neigh in panic.

Something enormous had just fallen on the ground. _Oh no, not him_, thought Gwaine in alarm.

The forest was too thick now and he had to get off his horse to keep going. Pulling on his horse's reins, he followed the trail of broken branches until he saw something that would remain in his mind forever.

Kilgharrah had crash-landed into the tree and he was lying flat on his belly, his breathing slow and unsteady. His wings were folded in a weird angle and a familiar body was lying underneath one of them. Merlin was now covered in dirt as well as in blood. He had several branches and leaves on his tunic and hair.

"NO!" screamed Gwaine as he ran to his friend.

It was no use trying to stop the bleeding now so instead he heaved Merlin's body closer to him, cradling his head on his lap. The young warlock was still breathing but his mouth will filling with blood.

"Do something!" Gwaine yelled at the dragon.

But the beast was quite still now. "I cannot heal without magic," Kilgharrah said softly. "Courage, Strength and Magic need each other. Without it, we are nothing. Do not burn him. It's important. Do not burn him."

And on those last words, the body of the dragon began to sink into the ground. Gwaine moved a little, still hanging on to Merlin's body, and could only watch as the creature of magic that had carried him not so long ago turned into a heap of stone. The grass and earth around Kilgharrah's unmoving and solidified form seemed to creep around the remains of the Great Dragon as though meaning to turn it into a small hill of stone.

"Don't…" he heard a small voice whisper.

He stared down to find Merlin staring at him through tearful eyes.

"Hang on, Merlin," muttered Gwaine. "You can do this. Gaius said…"

"I can't…" murmured Merlin. "_Arthur_… Don't give up…" He stopped to take one raspy intake of air.

"You're dying and you're still worried about what Arthur will say about your magic?" Gwaine gasped between sobs. "If he says one word against it, I will _kill_ him. I swear it. I'll bully him until he takes it back. I'll make him _eat dirt_. I'll burn all his stupid laws…"

"No…" Merlin murmured almost inaudibly. "Don't give up… on him. _Don't give up_…"

And then he closed his eyes and his chest stopped moving.

"No… Keep talking… _please_," said Gwaine in a strained voice that didn't sound like his own.

He was rocking Merlin's body back and forth, unable to control his own sobs. He remained there until the sun was high up in the grey rainy sky and his eyes had shed all their tears. A part of his mind expected Merlin to wake up at any moment.

And then, when it was clear that Merlin was not coming back, he lifted the body unto his horse and he rode until he reached the old ruin. There, he found a tomb of stone next to the Round Table and placed Merlin's body delicately inside it.

And when that was done, he sank into the ground with one hand clinging to the edge of the tomb and he cried again.

When the other knights found him almost a day later, he was still in this position, and he was still crying.

**Author's note:**

**Please d****on't panic. This isn't really the end for Merlin. Like I would ever do that! Tss… **

**N****ow take a deep breath and move on to the next chapter. **

**Thanks for the reviews!**


	14. Things are worst

**Chapter ****14: In which things are worst**

The worst thing about Merlin's death was that now Arthur Pendragon was actively looking for a new manservant, and everyone in Camelot knew about it. At any given time, the prince would look out of the window to find at least a dozen young men waiting by the servants' gate, all of them eager to serve in the royal household. Gwen was the person who he had appointed to interview them. Every morning, a new servant would bring his tray, help him dress up, and then the servant, most of the time a young man of eighteen or twenty, would be sent home with invariably the same comment: not good enough. They were always not quiet enough, not outspoken enough, not polite enough, not clean enough, not smart enough, or not strong enough. In short, they were not Merlin and he hated each and every one of them for reminding him of what he had lost.

Such had been his routine for the last two weeks; exactly fourteen days to be precise. Finding a new manservant was the most frequent topic of conversation with Sir Leon, along with Gaius' fragile state. Even Gwen often spoke about the need to find another manservant for practical purposes, though she had made a habit of avoiding saying Merlin's name. Everyday, someone would mention the _urgent need_, and it was really beginning to get on his nerves because he didn't want a new manservant.

But that wasn't the worst thing about Merlin's death; it was getting up in the morning. The first morning had been the worst. He had sat on the edge of his bed just before sunrise and been quite unable to move away from that position for the longest time. And then, when the knot in his stomach had reached a point where he couldn't take the pain anymore, the tears had begun to flow silently from his eyes. He couldn't even remember the last time he had cried. It must have been when he was just a small boy. And the worst part of it all had been to see Gwen walk in with his breakfast tray, her eyes red as well, and her face drawn as though she had not slept at all. She had sat quietly beside him until almost midday, until his eyes had run dry. In the end of the afternoon, he had welcomed King Alined's first knight to Camelot and received Sir Leon's report. That had been when he had first heard the news that magic was, for lack of a better word, _dead_.

But that wasn't actually the worst bit, he thought as he walking down the stairs towards the throne room on the fourteenth day after Merlin's death. The worst of the situation was the way in which Gwaine was behaving. They had searched for him for almost a day after he had left to follow the dragon. When they had found him, sitting alone near the Round Table, he had seemed vacant, empty, and desolate. And then, following Gwaine's indication, they had found Merlin's body lying in one of the stone coffins lined up against the wall. Arthur had stared at it in shock, feeling at that moment as though his heart had turned to stone. He had just stood there, motionless and dazed, unable to cry or speak or move. It had been Lancelot who had called the other knights to help him take the body out so that they could burn it according to the proper rites. And then Gwaine had completely lost it. He had screamed and thrashed and struggled and punched, until Arthur had agreed to leave the body and seal the tomb instead. After that, though Lancelot tried again and again to reason with him, Gwaine had refused to go back to Camelot. Two weeks later, he was still acting strange, dividing his days between the tavern and the old ruins where he could be seen crying and drinking and sometimes at the same time.

And the worst of it all, Arthur was thinking bitterly in the empty corridor just next to the throne room, was to have seen Merlin's body, to have peered into his white lifeless face, to have gazed down at his extensive wounds, and to know now without a doubt that he wasn't coming back. He hadn't even said goodbye. He hadn't even been able to tell him what he thought of him, _really_, without sarcasm or false arrogance. And now Merlin would never know because he was dead.

He pressed his fingers on his eyelids, suppressing a wave of anger and of something else like sadness, though it wasn't _really_ sadness. He was a knight, for crying out loud; he wasn't supposed to allow himself to be prey to such unmanly emotions. _Stupid Merlin_, he thought irritably. He shouldn't have been there at all. He shouldn't have tried to defeat Morgana and that was true with or without the magic. And now Arthur was mad at him for keeping such a secret for years but he couldn't even tell him because he wasn't there. He was dead, and that was truly the worst thing anyone had ever done to him. He wanted to scream and break something. He wanted to yell at Merlin for being such an idiot, but he couldn't.

_Come on, get a grip_, he thought resolutely. _You're Prince Arthur, Heir to the Throne, First Knight of the People, and Regent of Camelot. Your people need you, so stop feeling sorry for yourself._ That did sound like something Merlin would tell him, which wasn't helping him feel any better.

"Sire," Sir Leon called as soon as he had entered the throne room. "More reports are coming in about some of the druids falling sick."

The knight handed him the report but the prince knew that he hardly needed to read it; he could trust Sir Leon's words above anyone else's. In fact, he was often wondering why there had to be so many people in the room when Leon was delivering his report. Leon, Lancelot, maybe one or two other knights, and Gwen for moral support were more than enough for his taste. The court advisors, servants, and guards were part of a protocol which he had always thought to be superfluous. Moreover, they were always staring at him as though he was about to make some important declaration, which really wasn't going to happen while his father was still alive.

"Are there any casualties?"

"No death confirmed as of now, Sire," answered Sir Leon.

Arthur began pacing around the room. There had to be a link between the mysterious illness and the _end of all magic_, but still he felt reluctant about making his suspicions known. He needed to hear Gaius'opinion first; and if Gaius wasn't completely convinced, then he wasn't convinced. He only wished that the physician wouldn't take so long. True, Gaius was grieving and he wasn't quite his usual self, but there were many lives at stake. And now he had gone back to Ealdor to take a closer look at the Stones… and probably to offer some support to Merlin's mother as well.

"Has Gaius returned yet?" he asked to Leon.

"He should be back tomorrow," replied the knight.

Arthur leaned in closer to Leon, trying not to block out some of the eavesdropping. "And Gwaine?" he murmured.

"He was at the Crossroads Inn yesterday," uttered the knight. "Should I send Lancelot to check on him, Sire?"

"No, I might go myself, actually."

Leon's face became concerned. "That would be dangerous, Sire. Someone could recognise you."

"Hmm… right," Arthur replied elusively.

But the idea had crept into his mind and he had already formed a plan. He would have to inform Sir Leon once they were free of the throne room's audience.

While he was thinking and pacing, a guard came to whisper to Sir Leon's ear.

"Do not allow him entry," he heard the knight say more loudly.

"We tried, Sire," pleaded the guard, "but he is Prince Arthur's uncle and we cannot restrain him…"

Arthur's eyes instantly sought the front entrance to the throne room and there he found Lord Agravaine, standing with two guards on each side of him. His overall appearance was noticeably dishevelled and Arthur's thoughts immediately went to the servants who were attending to him. Though most of them did not really know why or how, they had been told that Merlin's death was a direct result of Lord Agravaine's actions. Agravaine had since then been forced to lower his expectations as to the level of care and attention that the royal household was able to provide. Still, he had not lost that self-important expression on his face, as though he was quite above the current situation.

"Sire," said Leon in alarm, "I will remove him immediately."

"No, it's fine," said Arthur while gesturing to the guards to stand down.

Agravaine saw the opportunity and took a step forward. "Arthur, I know you want me out of your sight, but I think you could use my help right now," he said solemnly.

The prince merely glanced up in disdain, and then back down at his report. "When I need someone foolish enough to bring us on the brink of war, I'll summon you." He distinctively saw Gwen and Lancelot beam at him from across the room. "Why would I possibly need you now, uncle?"

Agravaine did not seem disturbed by the fact that he was challenging Arthur's decision to exclude him from the throne room. Instead, he walked forward and pressed on.

"King Alined can be your ally, Arthur. He's always been a strong supporter of your father's views about magic and he understands the druids and their politics. If war comes with those clans, Alined may be able to negotiate with them. There's a reason why he sent his first knight to Camelot. He means to find out if what the druids are saying is true."

Agravaine had stepped out of the set boundaries to speak his mind so boldly to Arthur, which unfortunately wasn't to his advantage. The prince shot him such a furious look that the uncle took a step back and Sir Leon almost drew his sword.

"What do you wish me to tell him? Should I tell him the truth? Should I tell him that _we_ are responsible for the end of all magic? How do you think the druids will like that? If they are uniting against us today, it is only because they know of what we have done. _We_ are responsible for the creatures of the Old Religion turning into stone, for nature rebelling against us and for the entire world being out of balance. So you see I understand their anger. If the situation was reversed, I would do exactly the same. "

It was utter silence in the throne room but for the echo of his forceful voice.

Agravaine was shaking his head. "Why do you burden yourself with something that was always in your blood to accomplish?"

Arthur drew himself up to his full height. His face was an inch from Agravaine's. "Do you really think that I wanted this? That I wanted to see all those people suffer?"

His uncle remained defiant. "This is the perfect outcome. Morgana is powerless. Morgause is in our custody and unlikely to recover. All of the dangerous creatures of magic have turned to stone and no one has died…"

Arthur's reaction was instantaneous. He took his uncle by the collar with his two hands with such violence that he thought that he was going to hit him. "Someone has died!" he yelled angrily.

Around him, he heard Gwen let out a small wail and Lancelot call out a feeble "Sire!" but no one dared to oppose him. He had never been this angry with anyone. He wanted to hit his uncle, to make him feel his own pain. Yet he knew that it was just grief overpowering him. He wasn't that kind of person. He didn't even feel the need for revenge. He just wanted peace for his people.

"Someone had died," he repeated as he released his hold on his uncle. "I will never forget it, and neither should you."

"I'm sorry for your friend. Merlin, I think it was?" Agravaine let out in a soothing voice. "I know that he was more than a servant to you. I'm sorry that he had to die for your father's dream to come true. That _is_ your father's dream, Arthur. You should not try to deny what you've done."

Arthur felt his temper rise again, but this time he was going to keep it under control. Ever since he had come to Camelot, he had allowed his uncle to dictate how a regent should act, but that wasn't going to happen anymore. From now on, he was going to do things his way.

"Sir Leon!" he called out. "You will send out word that I mean to speak with the heads of all the druid clans. Those who respond are to be led here unarmed."

"Arthur, don't be a fool!" burst out Agravaine. "Without magic, the druids are not even a threat anymore. With the help of your allies, you can crush them and be the greatest king that ever lived!"

Arthur couldn't help but grin. Merlin had once said something similar about his destiny. If he was going to be a great king, then he wanted to do be one that his friend would be proud of, not his fool of an uncle.

"I may not know much about magic, but I know that whatever is happening to the druids is wrong. I will offer them any help I can."

"Your allies will not understand…"

"Then they are not my allies," said Arthur as solemnly as if he had just declared war.

Agravaine was about to reply something when suddenly the doors of the throne room burst open and Gaius walked in, quickly followed by a woman that Arthur recognised instantly.

The old man began to speak at once. "Sire, I apologise for the interruption but it's a matter of importance…"

"It's all right, Gaius," said Arthur as he took a step forward to greet the woman who was now walking speedily towards him. "_Hunith_…" he uttered.

But she wasn't walking towards him at all. She took off at a run before Arthur could react and she collided with the second person of importance in the room.

"How dare you!" she yelled out, launching at Agravaine. "How could you do this? My son!"

She was grabbing and trying to punch him but her frail arms and small fists were no match. He took her by both of her wrists, and then his horrified expression turned into shock.

"_Hannah_?"

"My son!" she screamed again. "Why did you have to do it? _Why_? You're nothing but a fool, Agravaine."

"Your son?" repeated Arthur's uncle.

Sir Leon had drawn his sword and he was advancing on Hunith, unsure as to whether or not she was a threat.

"It's all right. I know her. She's…" Arthur began to say.

"She's Lady Hannah," cut in Agravaine. "My _sister_."

Arthur saw many faces become confused. The implications of what he had just heard seemed to hit him like a hammer on the head.

"Out! Everybody out!" shouted Sir Leon. "You're all sworn to secrecy. Out!"

The servants and council members left the throne room as quickly as if it was on fire. Gwen and Lancelot were eyeing Arthur with inquiring looks but the prince gestured for them to leave. When Leon finally closed the door, the only ones left were Gaius, Lord Agravaine and Hunith.

"Your son?" asked Agravaine while staring into Hunith's eyes.

She was glaring at him and Arthur saw that she had been crying. But of course she would have been crying: her son had just died.

"_Merlin_," whispered Arthur.

"_Merlin_!" echoed Agravaine. He seemed to be making the same calculations as Arthur was. "Were you pregnant? Is that why you left?"

"No!" cried out Hunith as though she had just been insulted.

"Then who is the father?"

"That is not your concern, brother," she replied in a whisper.

"It concerns me if it means that there's another heir to the throne!" burst out Agravaine.

The words rang into Arthur's ears like those godforsaken warning bells. Somehow _another heir to the throne _and _Merlin_ did not seem to fit into the same sentence. He glanced at Gaius to see if the physician was confirming it, but the old man seemed at a lost for words.

Arthur walked around his uncle to peer into Hunith's face. "Is this true?" he asked. "Merlin was my… _cousin_?"

He couldn't quite believe what he had just said.

"Hannah," Agravaine said pleadingly. "You _left_. You _disappeared_. How was I supposed to know you had a son?"

"You weren't supposed to find out. Nobody was. And then you had to seek out the Stones. You should be ashamed of yourself. Don't you know _why_ our father stopped looking for them? Couldn't you figure it out? Magic runs in our family." Tears were running freely down her cheeks now. "Now my son is dead. I lost what I had most precious. And you, my brother, have doomed us all."

And with those words, she wheeled around, glanced at Arthur with one final look of utter sadness, and she left.

Arthur and Lord Agravaine were rooted on the spot. Gaius bowed low and followed Hunith outside of the throne room.

Merlin was his cousin. _Had been_. He had never known. He _couldn't_ have known. Another heir to the throne would bring doubt and imbalance to the court. Another heir with magic would mean war for sure. But did it really matter if he was dead? What was he supposed to do with this information? Did it really matter anymore? Did it have any implications for him? Hunith was, after all, Ygraine's half-sister. _Magic runs in the family._ Could it possibly mean that he…?

"This information cannot leave this room," muttered Lord Agravaine before Arthur could finish his thought. "I'll talk to my sister. I'm sure she doesn't meat to make it public. Your place on the throne is secured as far as I am concerned, Arthur."

But when the prince glanced at his uncle, all that he could see was lies and deceit. He suddenly felt a great wave of disgust for the man.

"First of all," he began to say with a level of self-control that he didn't know he had, "you will refer to me as _Prince_ Arthur or _Sire_. I want no more of that _Arthur_ tone; you haven't earned the right, and you no longer have my trust." He was rather happy with the way his uncle's face suddenly turned white. "Secondly," he continued, "you will not mention Merlin's name. You will not speak of him or of his magic to anyone. You will not talk to Gaius or Gwen about him, and you will not talk to his mother."

Agravine opened his mouth to protest but Arthur stopped him. "Anything to do with Merlin, you come to me. If you bother Hunith, if you so much as approach her, I shall know and I shall assume you are a traitor. Is that understood?"

And, feeling he had nothing else to say that could make his point more clear, he turned his heels and walked out of the throne room.

"What happened? Where are you going?" Lancelot shouted after him as he stormed through the corridors.

Arthur took a moment to stop in front of a window. As per usual, there was a line up at the servants' gate. All of them were strangely reminding him of younger, less confident versions of Merlin.

"I need to get out of here," muttered the prince. "Let's go and find Gwaine."

"That could be dangerous," Lancelot said in a low voice.

"No one will know it's us," he replied, clapping Lancelot on the back. "Besides, I need a drink. _Badly_."

One hour later, two riders were seen leaving the citadel on horseback. They didn't look like much, but one of them had blond hair and the other one wore a chain mail just like a knight.


	15. Arthur meets Hope

**Chapt****er 15: In which Arthur meets Hope**

It was a grey and foggy day absolutely horrible for horseback riding. As soon as they were out of Camelot, the road became muddy and slippery even though it wasn't really raining. After one hour, Arthur's boots, the back of his coat and his pants up to his waist were covered in mud, which wasn't improving his brooding mood.

The Crossroads Inn was known all over the kingdom for being a hideout for thieves and thugs and all other kinds of scum. The place looked like a farmhouse on top of which another farmhouse had dropped. The second storey was uneven and toppled over on one side, balanced only by a thick thatched roof with no windows. The air around the inn smelled putrid and the man who took Arthur and Lancelot's horses was even more fowl. The prince was not even surprised when a heavy body fell at his feet as he pushed open the wooden door. He merely stepped aside to allow the drunken man to roll over head first into the mud, after which the thug began to wretch horribly.

"Charming," muttered Arthur under his breath.

Lancelot shot him a reproaching look. They were undercover; therefore Arthur had been warned to try to use the vocabulary of a commoner. This wasn't something he had not done before – in fact, he had done it with Merlin on many occasions – but he wasn't in a playful mood and the experience so far was less than enjoyable. What he really needed (besides a bath) was something to stop his mind from spinning. He kept seeing the look of disgust on Hunith's face and hearing his own disbelieving voice repeat over and over the words that were now haunting him: _Merlin was my cousin_.

"My friends!" Gwaine cried out cheerfully as soon as Arthur had stepped through the threshold.

A stout woman in rags suddenly stepped in front of the prince. She looked at him up and down and then she smiled through crooked teeth.

"All he ever does is drink. I'm giving up. But I'll have _you_ instead," she said while putting her arms around his neck.

Lancelot's hand was on her before Arthur could even think of a polite thing to say.

"Drinks would be nice," said the young knight, pulling her aside so that Arthur could pass. "Nothing more."

"Fine," she said between clenched teeth, and then she stormed off.

Gwaine was brushing the crumps off a wooden stool which was nothing more than a log.

"_Artie_. _Lance_, " Gwaine said casually. "Join me."

He leaned far back on his stool and he almost fell off it, which caused him to burst out laughing. A few of the men who were sitting by glanced around to glare at Gwaine, but after a quick appraisal of Arthur and Lancelot's dirty and messy appearance, they quickly returned to their business.

"Nice _mud_ you got there, _Lance_. Is this the new fashion in the upper town?" snorted Gwaine, a broad smile on his face.

"Apparently," mumbled the knight.

The filth on the table was so horrible that Arthur thought about it twice before putting his elbows on it, but he did it anyway after he received another scolding look from Lancelot. _Really, now where is Merlin when you _really_ need him_? The words had come to him quite naturally and the wave of memories that followed was almost too much to take. He was therefore glad when the maid in rags came back with two tankards of mead. He gulped down his as fast as he could.

"That's the spirit," cried out Gwaine, clapping him on the back.

Arthur spat out a mouthful of mead, which only added more filth to the table.

"This is _disgusting_," he cried out.

"It's not so bad, actually," observed Gwaine. "It's just not as fancy as what you're used to, _princess_."

"Don't call me that," Arthur said edgily. "And don't call me _Artie_ either."

"Why not? It's very common-y. Very peasant-like. But maybe you would prefer one of the other words that Merlin was fond of. _Prat_ is definitely one_. Dollophead,_ though I'm not sure what it means_..."_

Lancelot snorted loudly.

"I'm certain there's a law against using those words in my presence," Arthur said annoyingly.

Gwaine's smile faded. "Is there a law against mentioning Merlin's name as well?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Gwaine banged his fist on the table, making the people around him jump. "You won't even talk about him. It's like he never existed!" he burst out.

Arthur's stomach gave a painful jolt as though someone had just run him through with a dagger.

"You think I don't care?" he cried out, rising from his seat, but Lancelot quickly pulled him down and Arthur was suddenly reminded of where he was.

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down, but somehow nothing seemed to be making the pain go away, not even the ghastly mead.

"Do you think I'm not reminded of him every time another servant brings me food, helps me dress, or hands me my sword?" He was trying hard to keep his voice down, but a part of him felt like screaming. "I can't sleep because I keep thinking of all the things I should have said to him before he died. He did it for me so many times, and I wasn't even there for him. You have _no idea_ what he means to me. He's the closest thing I have to a brother. I mean closest thing I _had_..." He pressed his fingers against his closed eyelids. _Don't cry_, he thought angrily, biting his lips. _Come on, don't cry... Not in here.._."

When he looked up, it was only to find two pair of eyes looking at him intently.

"The _princess_ has a heart after all. I was afraid it had turned to stone," said Gwaine while wiping a few tears with the back of his sleeve.

The knight gulped down another tankard of mead, but Arthur and Lancelot discreetly ignored their own drinks.

"You've got to come back, Gwaine," Lancelot said quite seriously.

Arthur thought that Gwaine would just make fun of the question, but instead he became inexplicably gloomy.

"Can't," he said crossly.

"Why not? You belong there," Lancelot insisted.

Gwaine's face turned into a snarl. "Gotta stay here... on this... _historical_ moment."

Lancelot glanced at Arthur inquiringly, and then back at Gwaine. "Historical?"

"Beginning of a new era. Can't you see we're celebrating_?"_

Arthur glanced around at the other customers who were having their drinks. A white-haired man had just fallen off his stool dead drunk and his companion merely stepped over him to get himself another drink.

Lancelot seemed equally confused. "Celebrating what?"

"The end of all magic, my friend."

The effect in the inn was instantaneous. All of the sounds and movements died out.

"It's not natural. None of it is," said the maid in rags.

Arthur glanced rapidly around and all that he could see now was more gloomy faces.

"It's ain't right," hissed an old man who was leaning heavily on the bar. "All that fog. Animals falling dead. Druids falling sick. Creatures of every kind turning to stone. Flowers withering to ashes. It's the gods have gone. They gone and they killing the Earth when they left."

"You shouldn't talk about such things," muttered the maid as she was nervously wiping the tables with a dirty cloth.

"Some say it's the Lady Morgana," uttered another man whose face was partly concealed under long greasy hair. "She's put a curse on the land so as to get revenge on Uther for denying her the throne. Throne is rightfully hers, if you ask me..."

Another man, heavier and totally bald, came to hit him behind the head. "It's Prince Arthur who belongs on the throne, you _idiot_."

"Silence, both of you!" said the maid, her voice grave. She was waving her stained cloth in front of the big bald man as though he was a misbehaving child. "You don't know who may be listening. It's the other witch you need to watch out for. I heard her spirit has left her body and now she's haunting the land like a ghost and draining the life out of all that she touches. You want to be careful now. There may be killings next."

Gwaine seemed to have reverted to a state of intense brooding and he was starring at his empty tankard of mead as though he was going to fall asleep in it. The level of talking slowly came back to normal yet there remained a sort of general uneasiness, like in a camp before a great battle. _Like the stillness before the heaves of storm_, Arthur thought drearily.

"I thought this would be cheerful," he said under his breath.

"Yes, let's be cheerful," cried out Gwaine, raising his chin from the table. "We can talk about Merlin and about how his last words were about you."

Right then, the man with greasy hair who was quite drunk stumbled and fell on top of the table, sending the mead, the two knights and the crown prince backwards on their rickety seats. It was Lancelot's quick grip that stopped Arthur from falling on the floor, but now his coat was soaked with the horrible smelling liquid.

"Great!" he snapped angrily. "This place keeps getting better and better. I'm going to wait outside. Finish your drink, and then we're leaving."

"You can't order me around," mumbled Gwaine. He could hardly pick himself up from the floor. "Do you think you're the prince or something?"

Arthur thought this didn't deserve and answer so he stormed off and shut the door behind him with a loud _bang_.

Honestly, who did Gwaine think he was, talking to him like that? First, he had thrown that strange fit about not burning Merlin's body. Now he was lecturing him about how he was dealing with his own emotions. Also, he kept having these annoying mood swings; one moment he was cheerful, and the next he was brooding. Then again, Merlin had been like that at times too. He could get melancholic quite easily. There had been that time when he had thrown water at his face and that other occurrence when Arthur had been shot, though not severely, and Merlin had seemed very annoyed by it. There had also been that time with the unicorn; he could still see Merlin's face as he had stared at the dying beast and pulled out its horn. Hunting was a trivial thing for Arthur and Merlin had a deep sensitivity about it about it that the prince did not understand, which was probably why he made such a valuable friend.

Indeed, Merlin seemed to be in every memory, every important moment of his life, good or bad. Arthur could recall very little of his younger life. He could remember teaching Morgana how to hold a sword and then being scolded by his father for it. He could remember walking through the market, picking his favourite foods and not having to pay for it. But in those early memories, he was always alone or surrounded by young noble men like him who would do anything and everything he ever asked. He had once talked Sir Oswald into selling his sword for a love potion. He had ordered a noble's son to leave the room simply because they were disagreeing on a subject. And eventually he had come to realise that none of these young men were actually his friends. The truth was that he could never have any friends because there was no one whom he could consider himself to be on the same level.

And then he had meant Merlin, and Merlin wasn't like the other noble men. Merlin wasn't like the other servants either. Merlin didn't care that he wasn't on the same level as Arthur. Merlin could say out loud what nobody else could. Merlin knew how to say the right thing at the right moment. He could speak the truth. _Well, except about his magic... _

And that was where his opinion of Merlin started to get really confused.

He had threaded aimlessly around the grounds of the Crossroads Inn while deep in thought and now he was behind the house and looking at an alarming scene. It took him only a moment to register what he was seeing. The big and bald man was hunched over the struggling form of a woman; and through the panicked wails, Arthur distinctively saw a flash of lavender silk and long, dark and wavy hair.

_No, it can't be…_

The next second, he was grabbing the bald man and pulling him back with all of his strength. The thug was twice as big as the prince, but still he was no match for the heir to the throne.

The bald man was yelling furiously. "What do you think you're doing? She's a druid! She's dangerous! Look at her arm!"

He took a step back, panting, and Arthur was allowed to get a good look at the young woman. The sleeve of her dress was pulled up and there was clearly a druid spiral symbol on it. She had long and wavy dark hair down to her waist and her eyes were very pale, as though covered by a gossamer veil. She looked scarred, though not as much as one would have expected in her situation, and she was unbearably thin. But what really caught Arthur's attention was the familiar clothing.

"Where did you get that dress?"

She seemed to wince, and then she covered her eyes with both hands.

"You – you're Arthur Pendragon," she gasped.

The big bald man snorted loudly.

"You wish he was," he snarled. "Ain't no prince going to save you…"

"That dress belonged to Lady Morgana. I demand to know where you got it. Answer me now or I will run you through."

As he spoke, he took out his sword to point it at the druid woman.

The bald man was scratching his head. "How would you know about this dress being the Lady Morgana's?"

Arthur thought it better to ignore the question.

"Answer me," he commanded.

The young woman leaned forward. Now the prince could see that the lavender silk was badly thorn and soaked in mud as though she had been travelling in it for days. It also looked slightly too big for her.

"The dress was a gift from someone I love. I didn't deserve it… Please, Sire, you must listen to me. I can help you."

"How can you possibly help me?" he replied bitterly. "You're blind."

"I am. But I see you. You're so full of light. It's almost like starring into the sun. That's how I know who you are. And I also know that your heart is heavy with sorrow. I see it in your light. It's quivering, like a flame blown in the wind. It's because of what you've lost."

Arthur pursed his lips. He didn't like to be scrutinized, especially by a strange woman who most likely had magic.

Still, she couldn't really be a threat, fragile and blind as she was, so he put away his sword. It was at that moment that he realised that the big bald man was gone; instead of the thug he could see the outlines of Lancelot and Gwaine running in his direction.

"How can you claim know what I lost? You don't even know me," he muttered.

"I do. And I can help you. But please, Sire, we have very little time…"

Lancelot and Gwaine were standing on each side of him now, swords in hand. They were gazing down at the young woman with quizzical looks on their faces. She struggled to her feet with some difficulty and now that he could fully see her, Arthur felt stupid for thinking that she may have been Morgana.

"All right, _Artie_?" asked Gwaine.

Arthur nodded, and then he shot a dirty look at the knight.

"Why do we have very little time?" asked Lancelot.

"I don't know," the prince replied, "but she's blind and she knows who I am, which makes her smarter than all of the people in this inn, or a witch."

"I'm not a witch. I'm here to bring you hope. You're all grieving. I can see it. But it doesn't have to be like this. Please, we must go before it's too late."

"We're supposed to trust you, is that it?" Gwaine spat.

But she was only starring at Arthur with those pale searching eyes. "Yes, that's what Merlin would want you to do."

The sound of Gwaine unsheathing his sword almost caught Arthur off guard.

"Wait!" he shouted, raising his hand. "Who _are_ you?"

"I – I'm Freya."

**Author's comment:**

**I bet you all thought they were going to meet someone named Hope. Hihi! That was fun to write. Please tell me what you think of the story so far. Still a good number of chapters to come, but hopefully I'll be finished before the real Season 4 starts. Yippi!**


	16. Freya needs Strength and Courage

**Chap****ter 16: In which Freya needs Strength and Courage**

"Freya?"

Gwaine's tone was incredulous.

"You know her?" Arthur asked.

"I searched for her. I think she's Merlin's girlf…"

And then quite suddenly she swayed and almost fainted. She would have grumbled to the ground if Lancelot had not caught her. Her eyes fluttered as the knight held her. At length she lifted her head with some difficulty.

When she was able to stand again, she whispered, "I'm so sorry. I've traveled such a long way. I didn't realize... It's been a while since I had to eat."

"It is _I_ who should apologize," Arthur replied dutifully. He had already pushed the word that Gwaine had almost used at the back of his mind. "I should have known. We shall go into the inn. You can rest there and have something to eat..."

"No!" she cried out in distress. "I've wasted too much time already. We have only one chance and I cannot risk loosing him."

None of it was making sense to Arthur. Lancelot too was shaking his head.

"You're talking about bringing him back –about bringing back Merlin. It cannot be done. The dead cannot return," the knight said darkly.

She starred at Arthur again; her eyes were glassy white but it was as though she was seeing right through him. "That would only be true if he were really dead," she uttered almost inaudibly.

The sound of Gwaine jumping to his feet startled Arthur. "I knew it!" he cried out. "When the dragon said not to burn his body, I thought..."

"But where is he?" Arthur cut in. However it pained him, he thought that he should be the voice of reason.

Freya closed her eyes for a moment and her face turned into something painful, as though she was remembering a bad dream. "Merlin's blood opened a gateway, but Morgause was there as well and she tried to control the power of the Four Elemental Stones. Merlin was too weak. Instead of allowing her to gather all that magic, he placed himself on the threshold, blocking the flow. He put his life on the line. Now as Merlin's strength is failing, so to is the magic in this world. If we don't hurry, he'll be trapped in the Other World forever."

Gwaine stepped forward. "And you have the power to bring him back?"

"Yes."

"Then what are we waiting for?" the knight said.

He had barely finished his sentence when suddenly they heard the sound of many footsteps. Arthur and the two knights wheeled around, only to see at least a dozen large men with swords and axes walking speedily towards them. The big bald man was at the lead.

"That's the witch. She'll fetch a good price. Seize her!"

Without even consulting, the three men took up position in front of Freya and they drew their swords.

"Do we have time for this?" Gwaine cried out irritably.

"No."

Arthur had not expected to hear such assurance in the blind woman's voice. As she spoke, she pressed her hand on his arm so as to move him aside. As soon as they saw her, the thugs came to a halt.

"Careful, she will put a spell on us," muttered the man with long greasy hair.

Arthur could only see the back of her head and her long, waving black tresses. She raised her arm and spoke clearly, "_Fleoge_!"

The spell hit all of the men in front of her like a wave, sending all of their weapons flying into the air. The blades, daggers, swords and axes were now dancing above their heads like leaves blown in the wind. Arthur saw the big bald man's eyes dart from his axe to Freya and then back to his axe. The menacing grin on his face did not look so menacing anymore.

And then, she did a very simple thing: she lowered her hand and twisted her wrist so that he palm was now facing towards her attackers.

They all seemed to understand at once what it meant. The floating weapons were starting to change their aim. Finally, all twelve men turned around and ran back at the inn, some of them yelling and others almost on the verge of tears.

When they were all of sight, Freya turned around and said, "We must go."

Only a few minutes later, they were leaving the Crossroads Inn on their horses. Arthur was the lead, Gwaine at the rear, and in the middle Lancelot was riding with Freya holding on to his waist behind him.

In all of his life, Arthur could not remember ever riding so fast. Nothing that was happening was making sense. That Merlin had magic was more than senseless; it was ludicrous. Gaius, Lancelot and Gwaine had confirmed it, but since he hadn't seen him produce any spells, it was as though his mind was refusing to register the information. It simply did not seem possible. Yet as they were riding he found himself hoping with all of his heart that it was true, and Merlin did have magic, and that he wasn't really dead but waiting for Freya to bring him back to the world.

The afternoon was drawing to its end when they reached the ruin. The fine misty rain did not seem to bother Freya at all. She slid off Lancelot's horse and went straight towards the entrance. As soon as they were inside the old crypt, she waved her hand and several torches lit up. Arthur immediately spotted some bottles of wine and the remains of a diner on the Round Table.

He turned to Gwaine. "Been here a lot?"

The knight merely shrugged and the prince tried not to imagine him dead drunk of the Table of the Kings of Old. Arthur then sought Freya and saw her standing next to Merlin's stone coffin. The three men gathered on each side of her.

"He's here," she whispered. "I've followed his magic ever since I left the lake, but it's getting dimmer and dimmer."

"What now?" Lancelot said softly.

Freya's empty eyes gazed at Arthur.

"Strength and Courage. You must open it."

Arthur and Gwaine took the lead. It seemed so strange and so wrong to open a tomb. Yet he had never felt so compelled to do something that was entirely against his nature. Magic had always seemed to him like a dark power that could corrupt the soul. Now he was going to use it to bring back his dead friend.

The stone top moved aside with some difficulty and when it was far enough, Arthur and Gwaine let it slip to the ground with a loud _clang_ that echoed throughout the chamber. When he glanced down into the tomb, Arthur only saw a red cloak which he could remember having laid down himself.

"Better stand back, my Lady," said Lancelot.

But Freya took a step forward instead. "I'm not a lady," she uttered.

Still, Gwaine glanced at her full of concern. "This may be a bit of a shock if you've never seen a body."

And then, not wanting to wait any longer, Arthur pulled the red cloak which swept on the side of the tomb.

Lancelot's cry of surprise filled the old ruin before Arthur could even register what he was looking at.

"It's not possible!" said the knight.

"Then I guess you don't know him as well as you thought you did, _Lance_," said Gwaine with a grin.

They were looking at a familiar face that was still the same as the day they had buried him, down to the drop of blood in the corner of his mouth and the tears on his cheeks. His skin wasn't grey and decaying, but it was as white as snow. He could have been asleep but for the absence of movement from his chest.

Freya strode next to the tomb and leaned above it. One of her hands was clutching the side of the tomb while the other one was stroking Merlin's face.

"He's fading. We don't have much time. Hoist him up on the Round Table."

"Wait," said Arthur pensively as another unsettling thought hit him. "Gaius should be here, if only to take care of his wounds."

Lancelot was stroking his chin. "I can go and get him."

Freya nodded, and then the knight took off at the run. The next step was for Arthur and Gwaine to use the cloak to bring Merlin out of the coffin. It wasn't very hard as he wasn't very heavy. They laid him on the Round Table still on the red cloth. Freya gathered her thorn dress to be able to sit on the table besides him, and then she muttered something inaudible in Merlin's ear.

"How are you going to do it?" Arthur asked in spite of himself.

"I gave up many things to be able to do this. My sight was one of them, but I was given a new one to be able to see magic. That's how I'll find him."

"How do you mean?"

She smiled at him. "Merlin _is_ magic. He'll be the brightest sun for me to find. But Morgause might be there too, which is why I needed magic as well."

Arthur closed his eyes a moment, trying hard not to imagine Merlin in a place of torment.

"Can I do anything?" he uttered uneasily.

He look that he got in return made him wish he had not asked this question.

"You are the key, Arthur Pendragon," she whispered. "You know of his magic. You'll have to want to get him back regardless of it. You cannot be conflicted anymore. Nothing less than your absolute will can bring him back."

"Sounds easy for an arrogant, self-centered _princess_," Gwaine said cheerfully while clapping him on the back.

And then, just as he thought that this day couldn't get any weirder, he saw Freya pull something from her sleeve. It was a necklace identical to the one that Gaius had: the small wooden wing with a slightly reddish color.

"You recognize this?" said Freya, this time with a dreamy voice. "It was in your horse's saddle. It has Merlin's magic all over it. I think it was meant to protect you." She handed him the necklace. "You should put it on."

"Will it help?"

"_Maybe_. I don't know everything. I'm just a druid girl. Better take a seat. This will take some time."

Her attention then fell completely on Merlin. She took his wrist delicately and leaned so close that her hair was brushing his cheeks. Her face was looking into his as though they were lovers sharing a secret and then she began to whisper words that Arthur did not understand.

The chamber became silent but for her quiet muttering. Prince Arthur stood by for what seemed like hours until his legs could not hold him anymore and he took a seat next to Gwaine.

The air around the Round Table grew warmer and thicker, as though the emptiness was now filled with something else, a kind of pulse that was making the hair on the back of Arthur's neck stand up. And there was a strange scent too, like newly sprouted grass and hot skin. Arthur even imagined that he could hear a constant push and pull, faint and distant, like the water from a lake.

He took the necklace and rolled it around his wrist, and then he waited.

And waited.

**Author's note:**

**Small chapter but another is coming up soon.**


	17. Merlin is in a dream

**Chapter 17: In which Merlin is in a dream**

_The smell of fresh grass. The sound of rustling leaves. The feel of the earth, cool underneath his tired body. The sun's warmth on his skin. Freya's head lying on his chest. Their hearts beating together. _

_It doesn't get any better than this_, he thought cheerfully, and then he kissed her hair.

She lifted her chin to peer into his face. She had such a nice delicate smile and beautiful brown eyes. The sun was shining above her, casting a sort of aura around her black mane of hair. He wanted to stay with her like this forever.

"You're really quite happy here, aren't you?" she said through her smile.

The tip of her fingers had found his neck and they were resting gently on his skin.

"I couldn't dream of a more perfect place for us. It has a lake just like you wanted."

She turned her head to stare at the crystal clear water that was calmly ebbing to and fro close to where they were lying on the grass. Merlin had picked this spot specifically because the ground was slightly inclined, allowing them to see the lake without even having to sit up.

Her hand sought his hand and they intertwined their fingers.

"I don't see any cows," she added playfully.

He grinned. "I have magic. Maybe I can conjure some."

She turned her head to face him again.

"Was it like this when you first came?"

He shook his head. "It was different. I kept running like I didn't know how to stop. And the further I ran, the darker everything seemed to get. It was very tiresome and lonely." It seemed like such a long time ago already. Time seemed to flow differently here, wherever _here_ was. He didn't want to remember all that darkness. He only wanted to think about Freya and the shape of her face, the color of her skin, the smell of her hair...

The other woman had blond wavy hair.

"I was chasing someone, I think," he said hazily. "It was like she wanted me to follow her. Does that make sense?"

None of what was happening made sense really but he was so tired that he had stopped paying attention to what made sense anymore. He only wanted to rest, and he wanted to spend as much time with Freya as he possibly could. Everything else was confused and seemed unimportant somehow; only Freya mattered.

"It was Morgause."

"Why didn't you follow her?" she said, looking into the distance.

He smiled. "I saw you, and then I only wanted to be with you."

She starred into his face. Her fingers seemed to be clinging to his shirt. She climbed from his chest to his shoulders and then to his face and she kissed him passionately.

"I'm glad you didn't go after her," she said as she drew back but they were still nose to nose.

He smiled again. It seemed as though all that he wanted to do was smile. This was by far the happiest he had ever been. He didn't want anything to change. The weather was perfect, the setting was perfect, _Freya_ was perfect. He didn't even care if he was alive or dead. After all, didn't he deserve of a little bit of peace?

Freya's smile faded. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she closed it again, swallowing the words that weren't coming out. He could feel her hesitation.

"What is it?" he whispered.

She bit her lips. "What about Arthur?"

Merlin cranked his neck to stare at her. "Arthur? We're having a perfect day and you want to talk about – _Arthur_."

_There's that hesitation again_, he thought instantly. And then the seriousness vanished from her face. "Are you _jealous_?" She said with a smirk.

"Jealous of Arthur? Jealous of his good looks, of his big arms, of his three meals a day, of his godforsaken armor, of his throne, of his kingdom? Why would I be jealous? He's only a _prince_."

He was amused by the irony in his own voice, and that made him laugh. It was all laughable, really. The only thing he had ever wanted was lying with him on the grass while Arthur still had to hide his love for Guinevere. But Arthur would find a way to make it work with Gwen; Merlin was certain of that. He wasn't even worried. It was written in the stars: Arthur and Guinevere. Everything else was just formalities.

Freya raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "You think that the job of being the Crown Prince is overrated?"

"_Extremely_."

"What about being his manservant?"

"_Doubly_ overrated. I mean, I've been poisoned, bullied, knocked unconscious, thrown in the dungeons, made fun of, humiliated, shot and stabbed, and that was before he even knew that I'm a sorcerer. Imagine what that's going to be like." He laid his head back, thinking. "I shouldn't have told him. I couldn't help it. It sort of slipped out. He's going to want answers and after that... he's going to _kill_ me."

She crawled upwards so that she could grab his face with both of her hands. "You don't really believe that."

"Maybe I do," he muttered, starring at the perfect blue sky. "Maybe it was supposed to be this way. The prophecies of the druids, perhaps they're not even about me and Arthur. You'll see. It will be some black-haired boy in about seven hundred years. He's going to have to face a great evil and someone will say 'oh it's that prophecy from a long time ago'."

Freya giggled. "I think you're getting off too easily."

"Am I?" He let his voice trail.

He was actually considering this quite seriously. The fact that he was here could only mean that he had failed; and if he had failed, then none of it could have been his destiny.

Freya had laid down her head on his chest again. He started to stroke her hair. He felt so tired now. Soon, he would have to rest.

"You have to come back." Her voice was strained.

Merlin turned his eyes to stare at the lake. "No," he said resolutely. "He doesn't need me."

"How can you say that?" She sounded on the verge of tears.

"I've watched him for years now. He's going to be a great king. He'll tear down walls and change many things. He's already started. He'll always put his people first. But he'll never understand magic and it's entirely my fault. I should have prepared him better. All that I've managed to teach him is that those with magic can lie and deceive as easily as changing the weather. He'll believe that his father was right and he'll never question it again."

"You're wrong. He needs you as much as you need him." Her voice was pleading.

"He needs me as much as he needs a bad cold," he uttered gloomily. "What he needs is to be surrounded by people whom he can trust like Gaius, Gwaine, Lancelot, Leon and Guinevere. I would only be adding confusion to the mix. It's clear that he'll have no idea what to do with me now that he knows about my magic. He can't burn me at the stake because I've saved his life too many times and he knows a thing or two about honour. He could banish me, though; that would be an option. What else? I'm not a knight and I will never be. I'm a terrible manservant and I'm an even worse friend. Friends don't keep secrets. To keep a sorcerer in Camelot would be allowing an enemy into his household and I cannot ask him that. No, he doesn't need me. And unless he shows up here to tell me that he does, I don't see how I can ever go back. I _can't_."

He glanced at Freya and saw that there were tears in her eyes.

"You're not an enemy. He doesn't believe that. You can still teach him about magic. Teach him what you know…" Her voice broke off. He could feel her trembling.

"Don't cry," he whispered and the he kissed her head again. "Arthur never sought my council. I always gave it of my own free will. There is nothing that I can teach him."

She was watching him intently, her eyes full of pain. "But you haven't even tried. You can't give up…"

He turned his head towards the lake for a moment and when he glanced at her again, she was standing away from him. The wind was blowing in her hair and lifting the rim of her long lavender dress. She seemed so distant and sad.

And then he saw – _Arthur_. Just a bit further from where Freya was standing. It was only an outline, pale and ghost-like, no more than an echo, and then it was gone.

"Did you see that?" he said, suddenly scrambling to his feet.

She seemed to be looking far off at something that he could not see in the direction where Arthur's shadow had been.

"Something's wrong. I have to go," she said.

He started to run towards her, but when he thought that he had reached her, her silhouette had vanished and she was reappeared even further away.

"Freya!" he cried out as panic gripped him. "Don't leave me!"

The light was growing dim around him. He felt so tired that he could hardly keep his eyes opened.

"You can't give up on him," he heard her voice murmur. He could no longer see her. "He hasn't given up on you. Find him. Follow him. Come back."

And then she was gone. He could no longer smell the grass or feel the wind. It was only dark and lonely and frightening.

Like death.

**Author's note:**

**If you can spot one reference to Harry Potter (totally intentional, of course), you're good!**

**OK that was a bit creepy. Now comes the good part… **


	18. Things do not get easier

**Chapter 18: In ****which things do not get easier**

"Arthur! Snap out of it!"

Arthur Pendragon's stomach gave a sudden jolt, his head jerked backwards and he knocked it hard against the stone wall. He opened his eyes to a bright light only to see that it was actually Lancelot holding a torch close to his face.

"You're back!" the prince cried out.

"Yes," murmured the knight. "I've brought Gaius."

Arthur had only to glance over Lancelot's shoulder to see the outline of the old man. It had grown dark in the cave and the shadow of the torches could be seen dancing on the walls.

The prince jumped to his feet as quickly as he could, feeling a little dazed and ashamed that he had fallen asleep on such a critical moment. He had been dreaming of green pastures on a hot summer day and of a clear lake surrounded by mountains. Merlin had been there too; he had spotted him standing on the brink of a dark abyss with a black emptiness before him. Arthur had tried to call him but in vain, and then everything had suddenly faded to black.

"Are you all right, Sire?"

Arthur robbed his forehead. His head was throbbing. "I'm fine," he lied. "Where are we at?"

Lancelot glanced back at Freya who was still hunched over Merlin's unmoving body. She was panting, her forehead was covered in sweat and her hands were trembling. It seemed impossible that she would remain in this position for so long.

"She seems to be struggling now," said Lancelot in a low voice.

Arthur merely nodded and then he strode towards Gaius while Lancelot went to find Gwaine.

Upon seeing the old man more closely, Arthur was stunned by how much older he looked. He seemed to have aged a few years in the last two weeks. Merlin's death had hit him harder than anyone. The old man was leaning heavily on one of the stools around the Round Table. He looked completely appalled by what he was seeing.

"What did you do?" he whispered as soon as Arthur was next to him.

"I didn't do anything. She just said that she could bring him back." He felt too much pity for the old man to be insulted by the accusation.

He glanced around at Gwaine and Lancelot. The two knights were hardly visible in the semi-darkness of the cave's entrance. They seemed to be discussing in hushed voices.

"There's no decay," Gaius said in a hoarse voice.

Arthur forced himself to look at Merlin's rigid body again. He still looked unnaturally pale and still. But unlike Gaius, the heir to the throne wasn't a man of science. Something else was at work here besides nature; something _magical_.

"Gwaine kept saying that we couldn't burn the body. Now I see that he was right."

Gaius glared at him accusingly. "You're meddling with forces that are too close to dark magic. You don't even know anything about... _her_."

He had turned his back on Freya and was now starring at Arthur inquiringly.

"She seemed to know him," muttered the prince.

Gaius' frown deepened. "Sire, Freya is dead. Merlin told me so himself and he wasn't lying when he did. I want to bring him back as much as you do, but not at any price. Merlin's magic is unlike any other, as I told you. Someone with bad intentions... someone like _Morgana_ could seek to take advantage of it. It is not uncommon for those with magic to change their appearance."

Arthur glanced at the fragile Freya and then back at Gaius. "You don't think... Wait! Did _Merlin_ ever change?"

The old man hid his answer under a nervous cough. "It's too late for that now, Sire. We must keep a close eye on her."

"Forgive me for intruding, Sire, but I daresay that we have other worries at the moment."

The prince wheeled around at the sound of the familiar voice. A knight that he had not noticed before came striding in his direction.

"Sir Leon!" Arthur called out a little too loudly. "I should say I'm happy to see you, but I don't expect you are bringing good news. What on Earth are you wearing?"

Leon bowed his head and his face turned a pale shade of pink. Arthur had rarely seen him wear anything else than his knight's uniform. He had a white shirt a little too short and worn out boots a little too big. He also had a red coat that Arthur recognized as having been his own at some point. It had been a while since he had seen that coat... Wasn't Gwen supposed to be mending it? And then he had told her not to because he couldn't bear the thought of her doing his mending. After all, it was Merlin's job.

"I... I didn't want to be recognized... so I – I asked Gwen to help me," the knight stuttered.

"These are partly her father's and partly... yours, Sire. Forgive me!"

Arthur clapped him on the back and could not reply anything but a wide smile. "You look... good," he said after making sure that he wouldn't burst out laughing.

He then gathered his knights around him a little further away from the Round Table while Gaius kept a watchful eye on Freya and Merlin.

"What's going on?"

"There have been reports of armed men hiding in the woods just outside the city limits, Sire," Leon said in a low voice. The others were listening intently. "When you left without telling me where you were going" – and there Arthur could have sworn that Leon was shooting an accusing look at Lancelot – "I took it upon myself to follow you. I thought you might be in some kind of danger. And I came here almost straight away because I had a feeling that this could have something to do with Merlin."

Arthur lifted his eyebrows inquiringly. "Why would you think that?"

They all turned around at once to stare a moment at Freya. She had taken Merlin's hand in hers and was muttering silently.

"The Lady Hannah, Sire," whispered Leon specifically for Arthur's attention. "I know her. Or rather... my mother knew her. My mother was one of the queen's Ladies-in-waiting. I saw Lady Hannah often as a child. She and my mother were friends. As soon as I saw her I knew..."

He glanced in the direction of Merlin again. This time Arthur understood. So Agravaine, Gaius and he wouldn't be the only ones to know the truth about Merlin's noble origins. _This isn't so bad_, thought the prince instantly. _Merlin will need protection. He will need all the friends that he can get._

He pressed a hand on Leon's shoulder. "Thank you for being honest," he said solemnly.

"What are we talking about?" asked Gwaine out of the blue.

But Arthur had to ignore the question. It was a topic for another time. "What about those armed men?"

The three faces around him became stern. "I'm positive that we were followed, Sire," murmured Lancelot. "Leaving with the court physician wasn't exactly discreet."

"I spotted movements in the dark, Sire," confirmed Gwaine. "We're definitely not alone."

Sir Leon was nodding as well. Arthur took a moment to think. Freya was still deep in concentration and he didn't want to alarm her. The consequences of breaking the magic between her and Merlin could be disastrous. This was leaving him with very few options.

"Get rid of those torches. Keep only a bare few. We can use the cover of darkness to our advantage. Let's try to find out how many there are first," he ordered.

The knights drew out their swords immediately, which made Gaius wheel around to stare at them.

Arthur raised his hand, signalling him to remain where he was. "Stay with Merlin," he commanded.

The night outside the cave seemed bathed in a thick fog. Leaning against the stone wall on each side of the entrance to the cave Arthur could see moving shadows, but the other knights refused to let him go further. Gwaine and Lancelot went ahead and for a moment Arthur could no longer see them. After a few minutes, Lancelot emerged silently raising five and two fingers.

"I see at least five on this side, Sire," Leon came to whisper to his ear.

"But which one?" Arthur asked. Some of his allies had been reportedly spreading the rumour that Uther was insane and Camelot ready to fall. "This is not how you start a war. Don't these people know anything about honour?"

"We should try to catch one to see their color," Lancelot suggested.

He had not finished his phrase that they heard leaves rustling nearby (Leon positioned himself in front of Arthur right away) and then Gwaine leapt from the dark carrying an unmoving body under his arm. The man was wearing a black coat over dirty and smelly rags, a scarf over his mouth, lots of daggers and no particular sign to identify him.

"No crest?" said Leon.

"Thugs. Hired hands," hissed Gwaine, dropping the man as though he was a bag of rotten vegetables.

He then proceeded to check the man's coat pockets in which in found a lot of gold.

"If this is half the money now and the rest when the _princess_ is dead…" he began to say.

Arthur tried not to wince at the word _princess_.

"This is enough money to tempt even a noble man," continued Gwaine.

"I've had an assassin try to kill me before," he said stubbornly.

"This is a _horde_ of assassins." Leon was trying hard to contain his voice. He then glanced at the others. "This is a battle we cannot win. We must get Arthur out of here."

He had barely finished his sentence when all at once they spotted a shadow moving rapidly towards them. Lancelot and Gwaine had their swords out first and they dealt with the assassin swiftly, but they had only just pushed the body out of the way that another jumped at them, this time with one axe in each hand.

"We won't get him out on this side," cried out Leon as he was fighting off a hooded figure. "Find another exit!"

Right after those words, Lancelot grabbed Arthur's arm so fast that the prince thought he was being attacked. Clearly, this was a situation where arguing with the knight would be useless. Seconds later, they were running back into the crypt towards the Round Table.

The first thing that he saw was Gaius leaning close to Merlin and checking his pulse, but no Freya.

"Where…?"

"She's here."

The sudden presence made him jump. There she was – _Freya_ –standing firmly next to Gaius with her pale eyes looking into the emptiness.

"She's here," she repeated. "_Morgana_. Her magic is rooted in the darkness. It is dying but she will hang on to it for this. She doesn't want Arthur. She wants Merlin. He's her link to bring back Morgause. You must take him and leave _now_."

She was looking at him intently and even though he knew that she couldn't see him, he felt as though she was peering into his soul.

"Is he back? I mean, is he alive?"

It was Gaius who replied. "He has a pulse." His voice was strained.

"We'll carry him," cried out Lancelot.

It was no use keeping quiet now. Gwaine and Leon were the only opposition preventing Morgana's hired men to enter the cave.

Freya swept over to where Merlin was still lying. She gestured to Arthur to join her. When he was close enough, she took his right hand and placed it upon Merlin's left wrist in a sort of weird half-conscious handshake.

"This is your connection," she said, pressing her hand on Arthur's. He immediately felt a sort of warmth creeping from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. Was it magic? "Never let go of this connection. He needs it to find you, and you, Sire, are the only one whi can guide him back now. Do you understand?"

He shook his head. "No," he breathed out.

But it was too late. Gwaine and Leon were running towards them, swords in hand. There was blood on their faces and hands.

"You're still here! We've only seconds before they regroup. Let's go!" yelled Gwaine.

Without even asking, he grabbed Merlin's body, pulling the motionless arms around his neck and hoisting him off the Round Table like and oversized child. Arthur felt Merlin's wrist slipping from his grasp. Freya glanced at him and nodded.

"It's all right, but remember what I told you about the connection," she said.

"They may not know about the other entrance," said Lancelot. He was pushing Gaius in front of him.

But as they were heading out, Arthur turned back to take Freya's arm.

"No," she said. He didn't like the stubbornness in her voice. _This can't be good_, he thought. "I can hold back Morgana. This is part of the reason why I came. I can do no more for Merlin. You must do the rest. Go."

"You – you'll die!" shouted Arthur.

She didn't even reply. She merely starred back and there was so much determination in her face that he did not even dare challenge her. And even if he wanted to, he couldn't because it would be putting many lives in danger including Merlin's. If what Freya was saying about Morgana was true, then he couldn't let the witch win. He would never let anyone lay their hands on Merlin ever again and that was an oath that he was willing to take.

The only thing he could do now – the only thing that could help – was if he left.

And against all of his instincts and his training as a knight, he did.


	19. Merlin's mind is spinning

**Author's note:**

**This chapter is going to feel weird, like you missed a chapter or something. But don't worry; it will clear up as you read along. Merlin is coming back from the dream world and everything is confusing to him.**

**Chapter 19: In which**** Merlin's mind is spinning**

His first impression was one of pain, as though his entire body was being pierced by tiny needles. And then there was a long breath that filled his lungs, returning his life to him, but the sudden inflating of his chest was excruciating. He tried to open his eyes but his eyelids remained stubbornly shut. He tried to speak but his mouth was dried and the words were not coming out. His ears were buzzing. His arms and legs were strangely unresponsive and his left hand seemed to be caught in a firm grasp.

He heard his name like a whisper, and then the murmur became a cry. He tried to answer but all that he could muster was a weak "Arth…ur," before a black veil fell on his mind and he fell unconscious again.

The blissful state of unconsciousness did not last for long. He soon found himself not in a world of dream but in a world of pain where any movement was agony. He also had the strange impression of always being in motion, of being picked up and dropped, picked up and dropped, endlessly and against his will. All that he really wanted to do was stay still, breathe and sleep. How else was he supposed to recover his strength? Instead, he was being carried around like a corpse and he could feel his life force slipping away again. He was falling, drowning, he couldn't breathe…

And then the flow of air stopped completely and he was forced to open his mouth in a painful gasp. His throat became suddenly blocked by a cold liquid. However agonizing it was, he had to swallow it. Many hands were holding him down. He struggled and thrashed and as he screamed in protest he felt a powerful surge take hold of his body. It felt as though a bolt of lightening had truck him. The pain nearly knocked him out again, but he managed to retain a grasp on reality by focusing on familiar sounds.

"It's all right, Merlin. It's just water. You're safe. You have to drink."

His eyes sought out the speaker but all that he could make out was a white blinding light. He shut his eyes again and allowed another sip of cold water to be poured down his throat. At least he wasn't being moved from place to place anymore. His throbbing head was resting on a pillow. His fingers were clinging on rough sheets. He could hear a fire cackling, someone's heavy breathing next to his ears, and more familiar voices speaking around him.

"Is the wound completely gone? How is that possible?"

"Will he recover? What about his magic?"

"Can't you do more for him, Gaius?"

"There's nothing we can do but let him rest."

"I'll stay with him."

And then a wave of exhaustion took hold of his mind and he knew no more.

How long he remained lying in that bed, he could not tell. However, when he woke up next the room was silent. The fire was no longer cackling. He could feel a wet cloth on his forehead but no other presence around him. He forced his eyes to open. As the chamber came into focus, he realized that he was, indeed, utterly alone.

_How strange. __Gaius at least should be here…_

The room was dimly lit by candlelight and it had no windows, only a few cracks on the ceiling to allow in pale rays and cool air. It was a dark and dusty place, poorly decorated with only a rough wooden table and chairs, and it also smelled awfully like horse dung and rotten food. He was used to much cleaner places and smells. When he turned his head, he saw a chair with a pile of rags on it. He recognized his brown coat and his shirt stained with blood. And then he remembered: he had been stabbed.

His arms were heavy but he seemed to have some strength in them. He felt his body just under the ribs for the place where Morgause's dagger had struck, but all that he could feel was a dull aching under his skin, no more painful than one of Arthur's punches during training. There were only two possible explanations for this: he had either been healed by magic or been asleep for a very, very long time.

No stitches and no wound meant that he could try to sit up. He therefore began to pull himself up on his elbows until he was leaning against the wall behind him. _This isn't so bad_, he thought. He began to wiggle his toes and shake his legs. His fingers were numb and his head was a little fuzzy, but at least everything seemed to work as it should, except for a general throbbing in his muscles. He was dressed, which ought to be a good sign, but the clothes were not his. The white shirt in particular was strangely familiar with the fine stitching on the collar and cuffs. Could it possibly be…? _Arthur's_?

But where _was_ everybody?

When he felt strong enough, he moved his legs sideways to sit on the edge of the bed. His muscles were protesting at every move, but the pain was at a bearable level. He spotted his boots near the bed. It took him much longer than usual to put them on, but he eventually did it. Now getting up, that would be a tricky part.

First, he breathed deeply and robbed his eyes to try to get them to focus better. After that, he hoisted himself up using the back of a chair, but as soon as his weight was on his legs, his knees trembled and gave up. He fell forward in shock, caught hold of a nearby table, and sent a bucket of water unto the floor with a _splash_ and a _clang_. The only thing that prevented him from falling was a chair – another one – that had miraculously appeared at the right place between him and the floor. He was able to climb on it with the last of his strength and he waited there until his limbs had stopped trembling.

Normally, if he had made such a noise in his bedchambers, Gaius would have come bursting in with a worried expression on his face, which only meant that he was really alone and possibly not even in Camelot, and that wasn't a comforting thought. With his usual luck, he was probably in some impossible position. At best, he had been kidnapped or taken prisoner; at worst, he was still in some kind of dream world or he was dead. In any case, he wasn't going to wait around and do nothing about it.

With this new motivation in mind, he started the long process of getting up and walking toward the exit. The worst pain was definitely the one in his legs therefore he used his arms to support some of his weight by gripping to every piece of furniture on his way. He was about to touch door handle when suddenly it twisted and the door swung opened as though as it had answered to his silent command. It was a little strange and unsettling that his magic would respond so instinctively, but he couldn't worry about that right now. He needed all of his energy just for walking without stumbling too much and without passing out.

The corridor was not very long but it was as deserted as his bedchamber. Even when he reached the top of the stairs, he couldn't hear a sound coming from the lower level. Through a dirty window, he saw a bit of pale sunlight therefore he had to assume that it was daytime. However, if this was an inn as it seemed to be the case, then there had to be some sort of activity even during the day. So the same question popped into his mind again: where _was_ everybody?

The slow walk down the stairs was punctuated by frequent stops so that he could catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead. The room before him was a lot messier than the poor bedchamber. It was a scene of chaos after a battle. Goblets and bowls were lying on the floor as well as their contents. Tables were turned over. He even saw a trace of blood near the boarded-up window. Whatever had happened here, it had to involve more than the usual tavern brawl. But if the fight had been taken outside, he ought to be able to hear something: weapons clashing, swords against shields, people screaming or sobbing. He was suddenly reminded of the village of Brome where all of the farmers and guards had been dead or dying. He didn't feel as though he could endure such a scene in his present state. He wouldn't last two seconds in a fight either. Magic was therefore his only weapon.

Closing his eyes, he turned his attention inwards, looking for the familiar low pulse of his magic. It wasn't something that he was used to do, but in his present state it seemed like his best option. A fuzzy image suddenly burst into his mind and the force with which it hit him almost knocked him over. In his mind's eyes, he could see big and mean-looking men pointing their weapons at other men dressed in black. Then there was a rush of other images as though he was flying away from the scene and seeing it from another angle. Now a circle of people wearing green cloaks was closing in on a figure who was laying down a long sword in submission. The man in the middle of the circle had blond hair, a red shirt and a necklace in the shape of a small wooden wing.

And then he was back inside the inn and stumbling on a stool as suddenly as if he had been jumping from one room to the other without knowing it. He could feel his magic flowing back to him and it was strong, overwhelming and restless. The swirling images were making his head throb and his mind spin. It seemed that what lay just beyond the door was much more dangerous than he had expected.

Arthur was in danger. He had to do something.

The pain in his body suddenly became of second importance; only his magic mattered since he needed it to save Arthur. He allowed himself to be completely wrapped in it, and then he walked out.

The first to taste his magic were the thugs on his left. As soon as they saw him, their weapons began to burn red hot. Then with only a quick movement from his hand, the swords and axes rolled on the ground until they were pilled up at his feet, and then he made the metal rust on the spot. The wave of magic felt like fire in his veins and he fought an urge to faint.

"What are you doing? We're on your side!" cried out a big bald man who was wearing an apron.

The other men, all dressed in black, were lined up against the wall without any weapons and they seemed too much in shock to move.

His mind was racing to try and make sense of what he was seeing, but there was too much pain and confusion now. He had to focus on Arthur.

The prince was up ahead exactly where he had seen him. There was a circle of at least a dozen men in green cloaks and Arthur was at the center of it. He had laid down his sword, there was a deep gash on his cheek, and his head was bowed. One of the druids was moving forward now, sword in his hand…

_No__, Arthur! He's surrendering. He can't be…_

He wanted to scream but the words were not coming out. He was too far and too weak now. His head was throbbing unbearably and his legs were threatening to give up. The druid was in a position to strike Arthur down with a single blow. They had waited so long for a chance to make Uther pay for his crimes, and nothing would hurt Uther more than to see his son dead. It didn't even look as though the prince was defending himself. He was outnumbered. It wasn't even fair. These people were completely without honour.

He couldn't watch this. He couldn't watch Arthur die.

And then, summoning the last of his strength, he raised his right hand in the direction of the druids. The ground began to move and suddenly the roots of the nearby trees were alive. He could feel them and he could control them. Using the roots like ropes, he unleashed a powerful assault on the circle of hooded men. They all fell back almost simultaneously, caught totally unawares and trapped by a snake-like enemy much too strong for them. He whipped and lashed, aiming for the ankles, the waist or the arms, until most of the druids were pinned down on the grass like cattle.

When he saw that none of the druids could be a threat to Arthur anymore, he collapsed on his knees, shaking and panting. The pain in his head had reached a peak and he was fighting with all of his strength to maintain his hold on Arthur's attackers.

"Merlin! MERLIN!" he heard Arthur scream.

It felt so strange to be hearing his name; it seemed like he hadn't heard it in a very long time. The screaming and shouting was coming closer and closer…

And then, something heavy collided with his entire body. Strong hands were shaking him, holding him up by the shoulders, touching his neck and his cheek.

He opened his eyes (he couldn't even remember closing them) only to find that Arthur's face was inches from his. The prince had fallen to his knees as well and he was peering at him with watery blue eyes.

"Merlin! _Look at me_! Those people are here to help us. Do you hear me? You have to let go, Merlin. Let them go. Come on! _Look_ at me! I need you to come around _now_. Calm _down_. Everything is fine. Do you hear that? Everything is OK. Are you all right? Please tell me you're all right…"

It seemed as though his world was falling back into place again. His entire body was shaking with pain, but now his mind at least could focus on something familiar, something important…

"You're telling _me_ to calm down?" he murmured in a dried, hoarse voice. "You're the one who's crying."

Arthur's smile was like a burst of sunlight. "I am not crying, and if you repeat that to anyone I'll…"

"You'll _what_?" mumbled Merlin.

"I'll… I'll think of something," said the prince in a shaky voice.

Then Arthur pulled him into a hug that was completely unexpected and overwhelming. It made him feel strangely as though he was coming home after a long, long trip. It also gave him a moment to breathe, to recover some of his strength and to regain his senses. The druids were set free at once.

"Give him some air, Sire. Please let me…"

Arthur's brotherly hug was replaced by another familiar embrace. Gaius was holding him and patting his back. Then the physician pulled back and started to assess him. He lifted his eyelids, felt his forehead, found his wrist and silently checked his pulse.

"I'm fine," Merlin said weakly.

Gaius' serious expression did not change. "Liar," he said sternly. "You shouldn't be out of bed."

"I know. _Muscular atrophy_," he replied.

Gaius' lips turned into a smile. "At least you're brain seems to be functioning."

"What's _atrophy_?" Arthur suddenly said.

Merlin realised that the prince was now standing over him, stroking his chin pensively and with a concerned expression on his face.

"He's been still for too long," explained Gaius. "His muscles need time to remember how to move."

"That's not going to be much of a change then, will it?"

This time it was Gwaine who swept him unto his feet and pulled him into a tight, brotherly hug. The tall knight pulled away, beamed at him, and then hugged him again for the longest time. Merlin's eyes glanced over Gwaine's shoulder at Arthur but the prince was looking away shyly.

"That's enough. You have to let him breathe," Gaius said sternly.

Gwaine released his hold and Merlin had to concentrate hard just to keep standing.

"We'd better get you inside," uttered the physician. "Merlin?"

But Merlin wasn't listening. A wave of magic and a flash of images had just hit him. In his mind, he saw a man in black sneak pass the knights, jump behind Arthur's back and slit the prince's throat with his dagger.

His reaction was purely instinctive. With a sweeping movement of both his arms he sent all of the people around him flying backwards with a powerful gush of wind-like magic. He then had a clear vision of the black assassin. The man was already behind Arthur – just like he had seen – and he was raising his dagger to strike. Merlin raised his hand almost at the same time and the man's arm stopped in midair, frozen on the spot. Arthur was so much in shock that he wasn't even moving, which only meant that he could still get hurt. So Merlin squeezed his fingers into a fist. There was a crushing sound and the man in black let out a scream of pain. The dagger fell unto the ground but the assassin remained motionless like a statue and gasping for air.

The voices around him were distant, like echoes. He could hear his name, but his vision was blurry and everything else was confused. He had the fleeting impression that Gaius was laying on the ground, trying to get up, and so was Gwaine.

"Merlin, stop it!" He heard Arthur's voice cried out urgently.

A part of Merlin knew that he could trust Arthur, but another part of him was being assailed by images of things that might. _Arthur being stabbed. Arthur bursting into flames. Arthur bleeding from the neck and gasping for air. Himself cradling Arthur's head and staring into his pale eyes as he lay dying. _Was it the future? His last experience of having a vision of the future had had dramatic consequences. He didn't want this gift. He _couldn't_. He didn't have the strength.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself... _Emrys_."

The words were soothing. There was almost something magical in them. The druid laid down a warm cloak on Merlin's shoulders and the sudden contact brought him back to reality. He released Arthur's attacker at once and the poor man let out a moan of pain, clutching his hand. Lancelot and Leon were on him right away to restrain him, but he really wasn't a threat anymore.

"You broke my hand! You _broke_ it!" yelled the assassin. "I knew it! The House of Pendragon is cursed! The witch said so. She will kill you all! Long live Morgana Pendragon!"

It was Sir Leon who silenced him, hitting him just behind the ears. The assassin crumbled to his feet and then the knight glanced apologetically at Arthur.

Merlin's mind was spinning. He had never done magic like that. _Ever_. It was raw and instinctive and violent. He grabbed his head, hoping that he could force it to focus, but he couldn't. He felt himself sway on the spot.

"Catch him, Gwaine!" Gaius cried out forcefully.

He had collapsed right into Gwaine's arms. _Oh no! Did I hurt Gaius?_ _How_ _could I hurt Gaius? This shouldn't be happening_.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated over and over.

"Can't you do anything for him, Iseldir?" Arthur said softly.

Merlin was trying so hard not to faint that he had barely noticed the druid beside him. It was an older man with medium length white and grey hair, a green cloak and not an unfamiliar face. But _where_ had he seen him before?

"You seem to think that magic can cure everything, Arthur Pendragon. However, in this case, a warm fire and something to eat might do the trick just the same."

Merlin couldn't disagree with that.

**Author's note:**

**The story is not over yet. Lots of action still to come. I don't often beg for reviews, but this time I will. **_**Please**_** review. It gives me the necessary encouragement to keep going. **

**And to all of you who have reviewed already, thanks a million. **


	20. Merlin is back

**Chapter 20: In which**** Merlin is back**

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Loads," mumbled Merlin as he stuffed another piece of bread into his mouth.

He was eating as though he had never had eaten in his life. Despite the awful mead (only Arthur and Lancelot seemed to agree about that) and the dirt, the Crossroads Inn had terrific food. The innkeeper turned out to be a lively fellow, about three times Arthur's weight and completely bald, going by the name of Dragonet which was making Merlin snort in suppressed laughter every time he heard it. Regardless of his terrible name, Dragonet was a great cook and he had also organised quite a fight against Morgana's assassins.

"I can't believe we're here again," muttered Lancelot while pushing away an untouched tankard of mead.

Gwaine had already gulped down two pints and a generous amount of salted pork. He kept glancing tearfully at Merlin and patting him on the back every few minutes.

"He looks happier now," said the innkeeper as he was bringing another plate of sausages and cheese. "Begging your pardon, Sir Merlin," but I was beginning to think you were a ghost."

Merlin almost chocked on his roast chicken. "I'm not a _Sir_," he blurted out. "No nobility whatsoever. Sorry, Dragon..." He couldn't finish the sentence and he turned away to hide his large smile.

But then something strange happened. Arthur gulped down his disgusting mead so fast that even Gwaine stared. Was Arthur hiding something?

"That's the spirit," said the innkeeper.

"Where would we be if it weren't for you, Dragonet?" Gwaine said appreciatively.

The big bald man merely shrugged and sneered. "You'd be dead."

"Are you sure you know who you're talking to?" said Merlin with a grin.

Lancelot and Gwaine simultaneously clapped him on the shoulder in reply.

Merlin's mind was slowly getting back into place. He knew his name and the name of the knights around him; he knew that Arthur was a _prat_ and that Gaius was still checking his pulse every few minutes, but he still didn't know what he was doing at the Crossroads Inn. The other thing that he couldn't explain was why his magic felt like it could burst out of him at any moment.

He was absorbed by this thought when he noticed that Gaius was staring at him with eyes filled with tears. He had Merlin's hand between his but he wasn't taking his pulse anymore; he was just holding it as though it was something precious.

"Why is everyone looking at me like that?" Merlin let out, trying to sound cheerful. "It's not like I was dead or anything."

Gaius shifted in his seat and Arthur gulped down another tankard of mead.

"You don't remember?" Lancelot inquired.

Merlin shook his head. "It's coming back slowly. I was some other place, but I wasn't dead." He tried to sound as convincing as possible. "It was like being inside a dream, but a good dream, for the most part. I was… _happy_."

An image of Freya burst into his mind. He could see her dark hair, her smile, her eyes, and her lavender dress blowing in the wind.

"Then… why did you come back?" asked Lancelot, ignoring Arthur and Gwaine's painful expressions.

"I heard a voice," Merlin said truthfully. "It was telling me that I had things to do."

"Probably Arthur telling you about your chores, then," Gwaine replied with almost what Merlin perceived as a snort. "I can't believe you brought him back by telling him about making your breakfast and mucking out the horses."

Merlin couldn't quite believe it but Arthur was blushing. "That's not exactly what I said, and it was supposed to be private by the way."

He was so embarrassed that Merlin was encouraged to taunt him.

"What did you say exactly?" Merlin asked with a mischievous grin.

The prince was trying hard to look at everything else besides his former manservant.

"I had to say something that would bring you back. You're not my manservant anymore, in case you don't remember. You're Gaius' apprentice. But, you know, you'll always have a place because I can't" – his voice broke off – "imagine Camelot without you. There I said it. I suppose you're happy now," he concluded and then he nudged Gwaine on the shoulder. "I guess you didn't hear everything after all. Am I still a _princess_?"

"Definitely," said Gwaine, nudging the prince back.

"Anything else?" Merlin pressed on.

But Arthur grabbed Lancelot's tankard of mead and gulped it down immediately.

"You were stabbed in front of our eyes. Gwaine was there when you drew your last breath. We even put you in a tomb. We really thought you were dead," said Lancelot.

Merlin's mind was trying to piece together the events leading to up to here and now. He could remember the stabbing and Kilgharrah and Gwaine talking to him, but after that everything was a blur until he was lying on the grass with Freya. He had been chasing Morgause before that and had started to look for Arthur after. Time had been different there, endless, without day or night, so he had no way to tell how long he had been gone.

He suddenly noticed that everyone was looking at him intently. He robbed his forehead. "How did we end up here exactly?"

Gwaine leaned forward. "We were carrying you in the woods and we were loosing you."

"Wait. Was that before or after you put me in a tomb?"

"After," Gwaine said elusively. Merlin stared at Gaius but the old man remained silent and still. Gwaine went on. "Arthur had to talk to you to bring you back, so he did and you began to breathe, which kind of told us you weren't dead after all. But we were lost in the woods with the assassins after us. We saw the inn and we thought we could hide there, except that Dragonet already knew who we were. We tried to send out a message to Camelot but the assassins began to attack like this was some kind of war. It was Dragonet who defended this place, you, us, Arthur and everyone else at the inn. And then, just when things were getting worse, Iseldir showed up with the druids to help us. We couldn't quite believe it ourselves."

Upon hearing the druid's name, Merlin remembered him right away as the man who had handed him the Cup of Life a year ago. Then, it was like a small bell rang in his mind; magic was sending him a message. He wheeled around and at the same moment Iseldir walked in, looking both relieved and nervous.

"I don't mean to intrude," said the druid with a slight bow.

Merlin had not quite realised that they were the only ones sitting inside the inn. The innkeeper had discreetly stepped outside and Leon was keeping an eye on the prisoners. Did everyone think that they were holding some kind of private council?

"Please join us," said Arthur.

Lancelot jumped to his feet to get the druid a stool but Merlin was quicker. He waved his hand and a seat that was turned over slid in their direction and sprang upwards on its own.

"Merlin!" said Gaius, outraged.

"It's all right, Gaius," said Arthur. "We're among friends here."

Merlin almost fainted after hearing those words; not because he was still weak but because he had never dreamed of hearing Prince Arthur reply in such a way with a druid and a sorcerer at the same table. It was almost too good to be true.

"I'm glad to see that you are doing better," said the druid as he took up his seat next to Merlin.

"I'm not even sure who I should be thanking," Merlin began to say. He then noticed that the faces around him seemed in shock. "_What_?" he added slightly annoyed.

They couldn't just keep assuming that he knew what was happening. However Iseldir's presence made him swallow the bitter comment and he took a sip of his mead instead.

Gwaine leaned closer to him. "You don't happen to know anyone by the name of Freya, do you?"

Merlin blurted out his mouthful of mead at once.

"_What_?"

"Blind druid girl," said Gwaine, and then he winked conspicuously. "Very pretty, I might add. She seemed to _know_ you. Anyway, we brought her to the crypt. She said she gave up many things to be able to bring you back."

He wanted to speak but the words got stuck in his throat. He had been so happy to be with Freya in the Other World. It had seemed almost normal to see her there, as if she belonged in a place of magic. But had he missed a chance to see her in the real world? And why had Gwaine called her 'a blind druid girl'? Freya wasn't blind. Freya wasn't even alive. How could she have been looking for him when she had been with him in the first place?

Images were flowing freely through his mind now: Freya locked in a cage; Freya smiling as he was presenting her a flower in the palm of his hand; Freya's eyes as she was telling him about her home; Freya's face in the water after he had broken the Fisher King's hourglass; Freya lying in the grass with him by a lake. Powerful magic was at work there, a magic of a much deeper kind, of life and death. He could feel it, but it lay beyond his grasp, intangible, like the fabric of time and other worlds. He had never dared to explore such a deep magic, but he knew now that all he really had to do was look a bit further…

"Stay with us… _Emrys_," someone close to him suddenly said.

His eyes snapped open and he saw Iseldir leaning close to him. The others had slightly panicked expressions. Gaius was still holding his hand; no, it was his wrist. And it wasn't Gaius: it was _Arthur_.

His glanced met Arthur's and the prince dropped his wrist at once, looking embarrassed.

Merlin's mind was filling up with questions now. "How could Freya…? It's not possible. She brought me back. What did she _do_? She must have bargained." Nimueh's words popped into his head. He knew straight away that Gaius was thinking the same thing. _For a life to be given, one must be taken… _

"I'm sure she knew what she was doing," Gaius uttered reassuringly.

"Where is she now?"

He looked around him at the drawn faces. "Morgana's got her," said Arthur.

Merlin's stomach gave a sudden jolt and he felt his magic bubbling inside of him, threatening to burst out. He closed his eyes tight to try and keep it under control. If he could just reach out and find Freya…

"You must not look for her yet. The witch might feel your presence and precipitate her plans. Calm yourself, Emrys," said the druid.

"Why do you call him that?" Gwaine asked.

The druid ignored him. "Your magic is powerful now, Emrys. You mustn't let it dominate you," Iseldir said softly.

"What's happened to it? It feels… _different_," the young sorcerer managed to say.

He felt slightly dazed, almost feverish. He seemed to remember something about magical stones and the end of all magic, but it didn't feel like magic had ended at all…

The druid was staring meaningfully at Arthur now. "It's blocked, impaired."

"That's not what I'm feeling…"

"You're not like us, Emrys," cut in the druid a little harshly. "Magic is leaving this world like leaking blood from a wound. My people can feel it. Some are growing sick because of it. The only reason why you are so powerful is because you do not share magic with anyone else in the world anymore, except maybe the Lady Morgana. But the flow must be restored, otherwise we will all perish."

"How do we do that?" asked Arthur.

Iseldir's face grew darker. "The one whose spirit remains in the Other World must be killed. She is the source of this evil."

"Who?" said Arthur.

But Merlin already knew the answer. Iseldir was just waiting for him to say it.

"Morgause."

"You should be thankful it's not you," replied the druid. "Then the situation would have been hopeless."

Lancelot and Arthur were glancing at each other meaningfully.

Gwaine leaned back against the wall and snorted loudly as though he had just heard something funny. "That's it? That's the plan? It's only going to take us about five minutes. We already have Morgause in custody."

"Where?"

It was Arthur who replied. "We captured her and brought her to Camelot. She's not conscious. She's barely alive. We're keeping her in a secret place where Morgana won't find her."

"Are you sure?" said Iseldir. "You cannot underestimate the witch's power. She disappeared with the blind woman as soon as the assassins began to attack. As we speak, she might already be in Camelot, looking for Morgause."

Arthur and the knights fell silent and thoughtful. To Merlin, however, there seemed to be no other option. He wanted to find Freya. He had to know if Morgana was with her and if she was in Camelot. Nothing else was as important.

He closed his eyes and retreated inwardly, following the thread of magic that was flowing through him so clearly. In his mind, he saw the castle. He was flying down the stairs under it, further than the dungeons, lower than the tunnels in which he had hidden Freya once. There, in the old foundations, was a dark cave that had once held the Great Dragon captive. In it there was a small bed and a blond woman lying still in it. And then it was as though he was leaping through time and space. Now he was in the market place watching a cloaked woman drag a blind girl through the crowd, unchecked and unnoticed.

"Merlin!"

It was as though he had just emerged from deep water. He gasped for air and as his lungs filled up a great wave of pain took over his body. It was too powerful a magic and he had not totally been prepared for it.

"Morgana knows where Morgause is. She's taking Freya there right now."

"_What_?"

Arthur's tone of shock did not surprise him as much as seeing the prince's hand laid on his wrist again. Their glances met and Arthur withdrew his hand at once.

"You have a powerful gift, Emrys," uttered Iseldir. "Many doors are opened to you now. But you must keep your grasp on reality and rely on what you know. You are still human."

Arthur looked appalled. "What happens if Morgana manages to revive Morgause?"

Iseldir held his breath. "Then Morgause will become a creature of darkness with powers beyond reckoning. Too powerful even for you, Emrys. It will be the end of… _everything_."

"That doesn't sound good," said Gwaine, shifting on his seat. "Shouldn't we be leaving _now_?"

Arthur was staring at Merlin now. "Are you up to it?" he asked.

Merlin had closed his eyes again but this time it was only in an attempt to control his breathing and calm his nerves. It took him a few minutes to realise that they were all waiting for him to say something.

"She's got Freya," were the only words that came out.

"You're not well, Merlin," Gaius said weakly.

In truth, he did feel a little stronger than when he had awoken in that dreadful bedchamber. He had never felt his magic so completely a part of him and it was giving him a different kind of strength. It was also their only weapon against Morgana. Swords would be useless. Another part of him also had to make sure that Arthur did not take it upon himself to save the day. The consequences of that were too ghastly to consider.

He became painfully aware that everyone was looking at him. "You don't think you can face Morgana without me, do you?" he said, grinning in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "I'm the only sorcerer you've got."

Arthur rose from his seat. "A good thing too. I can't begin to imagine having to put up with two of you."

"That's actually a good idea, you know. Maybe I can try a spell to create more of me. That would be fun. You could have one Merlin to muck out your horses, one to mend your clothes, one to polish your armour and one to save your royal arse."

"And which one would you be? The one sleeping on the job?"

"You'd probably be too much of a _dollophead_ to know the real me."

"_Merlin_…" Arthur let out warningly.

"I know. Shut up."

Iseldir seemed completely at a lost, and it didn't help him that Gwaine and Lancelot were smiling like idiots.

The prince came to stand beside Merlin. He pressed a hand on his former manservant's shoulder. He had that expression on his face; the one that Merlin was used to seeing every time he stepped out of line. He braced himself for what was to come.

"I don't want to know how many times you used magic to save me," said the prince.

"I wasn't going to…"

Arthur raised his hand warningly. "I don't want to know."

"I swear I wasn't going to…"

"Shut up, _Merlin_. You are _never_ going to tell me how many times. And if you keep something like that hidden from me again, I _will_ kill you."

And then the prince left the room, and it was Merlin's turn to grin like an idiot.

And now they were off to a much darker place.


	21. Magic is not evil

**A word from the author:**

**I have to share my pain. The first episode of Merlin Season 4 is this Saturday (Oct. 1****st****) and I won't be able to watch it because I don't have BBC One. Why, oh why, isn't BBC Canada presenting this show? I think I will write an e-mail of outrage to the network.**

**If anyone has a link for a good site to watch the show, please please please let me know because I'm really going crazy.**

**Now, the chapter. Enjoy.**

****

**Chapter 21: In which**** Magic is not evil**

Arthur Pendragon was standing next to his horse near the path in front of the Crossroads Inn, ready to leave. They had changed their clothes so that they would not be recognized; except Gaius whose comings and goings were less likely to be noticed. Arthur was now wearing a long and muddy brown coat which Merlin had said made him look "kind of wild". Gwaine, Lancelot and Leon had borrowed clothes from the assassins and they were now all dressed in black. Merlin, who was still unsteady on his feet and shivering all over (though he was trying to hide it), had traded the green druid cloak for a warmer one, heavy and black, that belonged to Iseldir himself. The former manservant looked outlandish in the heavy material especially since it was too big for him, but he didn't seem as bothered by it as he was by his new status of 'sorcerer'.

_Not to mention he's also my cousin, _thought Arthur, suddenly feeling the full weight of this information like a knot in his stomach. _Another heir to the throne. If anybody knew..._

He tried to shake off the idea. He had heard stories of kingdoms being thorn apart by feuding heirs, but Merlin would never seek to usurp the throne. That was a ridiculous notion. His loyalty could not be doubted. It was the loyalties of others such as Agravaine that Arthur now feared. But he couldn't ask his friend to share the burden yet. It was too soon. Merlin had not fully recovered from being almost dead. Unsteady as he was, news like that was likely to finish him off.

The druid and the young sorcerer were now speaking in hushed voices a short distance from where Arthur was. Technically the prince wasn't eavesdropping, but still he could not stop himself from listening discreetly to the private conversation, just as a way to put his mind on another topic.

"I wish I knew how to guide you, I really do, but the truth is that I have very little experience," Iseldir was saying softly to Merlin.

"My magic – It's too powerful. I feel like I'm on the edge of loosing control. I never had this problem before. Magic was always natural for me, like breathing." Merlin's voice was strained, full of doubt.

Iseldir was shaking his head. "I'm afraid I am powerless to help you, as are the rest of my people."

"I'm sorry," Merlin began to say.

"Don't be," cut in Iseldir. "To see you standing here brings me more hope than you can possibly imagine, Emrys. All is not lost."

Merlin's face was half-hidden under his hood so that Arthur could not make out his expression.

"Everything feels... wrong," Merlin managed to say. And then his voice became a whisper. "Why me?"

"These things are not clear," said the druid.

Merlin snorted mildly. "You sound like Kilgharrah."

"Who is that?"

"The Great Dragon."

_Of course_, thought Arthur, laughing inwardly at the irony. _Merlin is a sorcerer. Why shouldn't he have a dragon to speak to? How could I be foolish enough to think that I could have killed the Great Dragon all on my own? It was Merlin all along._

He half-expected to learn shortly that Merlin could fly, talk to unicorns, command the wind and change his appearance. It had been unrealistic enough to imagine Merlin as a physician, to picture him as a sorcerer was plain ludicrous. Yet, somehow, it had happened. Merlin was speaking about his magic being like breathing. How on Earth could he possibly have missed that?

"Then Kilgharrah is right," the druid was saying. "It is never certain why some people carry the fate of the world on their shoulders. I suppose that we should be thankful that the burden has landed on you."

Merlin's face twisted painfully. "How can you possibly say that? All those creatures –lifeless – turned to stone..."

Iseldir stopped him at once. "Now is not the time. You must put the guilt aside and focus on what you _can_ change. Only you can restore the flow."

"By killing Morgause."

Iseldir became almost impatient. "She is already gone. You will only be ending her suffering. Listen to me, Emrys. Your magic is like a river. It flows with many twists and turns and it can take you places you never dreamed off. But you must be careful not to loose yourself on the way. If the blind girl knows anything about our ways she would have given you a connection, something to guide you back from the Other World. Find that connection and do not loose it."

Merlin's glance turned towards Arthur and the prince tried to look inconspicuous, brushing the top of his horse's saddle and deciding at that moment that it was time to get on.

When he glanced back at Merlin, the druid was pressing both hands on the young warlock's shoulders.

"You will not fail us, Emrys. Much of what's happening now has been foreseen. Farewell. We will see each other again and on happier circumstances I hope."

Merlin bid farewell to the druid as well, a little reluctantly. The other druids had already disappeared into the dark woods and Iseldir went in after them and with a final glance back at Arthur and his knights. Morgana's black assassins were to stay behind (they were tied up like sausages) under the watchful eyes of Dragonet the innkeeper until help could be sent from Camelot. Sir Leon could now be seen giving instructions to the big bald man while Lancelot was helping Gaius unto his horse.

"Bit strange, these druids," Arthur said offhandedly as Merlin mounted the horse beside him. "They always seem to know more about what's going on than we do."

Merlin glared at him from under his hood. "Maybe they're just smarter."

But the question that was burning Arthur came out in spite of him. "Why does he call you _Emrys_?"

Merlin avoided his glance. Arthur could see him shuddering. "Don't know. And if you don't mind, I have other things on my mind."

"You're not going to kill Morgause," snapped Arthur. "I will."

Merlin's horse circled around his. "And you're planning to get pass Morgana how exactly?"

Arthur tried his best not to sound too smug. "You're going to distract her."

Merlin's doubtful expression turned into a smirk. "I'm not doing all the work just so you can have the glory. This time, I'm keeping some for me."

And then he sent his horse forward, taking the lead. Arthur immediately went after him while yelling frantically, "What do you mean by 'this time'?"

They rode as fast as their horses would carry them, slowing down only to allow Gaius to catch up with them. Arthur and Merlin were following each other, alternating in the lead when the road allowed it. Gwaine and Lancelot were close behind, followed by Gaius and finally Leon at the rear. The sun was getting low on the horizon when they reached the city walls and there they set their horses free and continued on foot, hoping to attract as little attention to their party as possible. However, the long ride had taken its toll on Merlin who almost collapsed as soon as he touched the ground. He stumbled forward, helped by Gwaine and Gaius, but after a short while he asked them for a break, leaning back heavily on the stone wall of Camelot.

Gaius handed him a piece of bread and some dried fruits, but he shook his head in refusal.

"You have to eat something, Merlin."

"No, I feel sick to my stomach." He looked even paler than when he had been lying in bed at the Crossroads Inn. He seemed to be struggling just to stay on his feet.

Arthur was watching him and stroking his chin pensively. He had to remain in control of the situation. He couldn't allow his emotions to take over even if what he wanted to do was put Merlin in a cart, put a blanket on him and let him sleep for three days. However, if Morgana was running around freely in Camelot, people could die, and Merlin could very well be among them; or Gwen, or his father, or even his obnoxious uncle Agravaine. No one was safe.

"Does she know we're here?" He asked in a low voice.

Merlin shook his head silently.

"We could raise the alarm, Sire," offered Leon. "Then she will have no choice but to flee."

However, Arthur knew that he could not raise the alarm without alerting Morgana and risking her making a rash decision. She might change her plans drastically, or unleash her magic against all that stood in her way. This left him with very few options.

"No, we mustn't let her know of our presence," said Arthur, glancing back at his knights. "I want her cornered. I want her to be trapped. That's why we put Morgause in the cave in the first place; to lure Morgana in."

He turned his attention back to Merlin. The prince knew exactly what he needed to ask of him, but his better judgement was telling him to give the young sorcerer a few more minutes to rest.

Then at the same time the sorcerer's eyes lost their focus and his entire body shuddered violently.

_This can't be good_, thought Arthur instantly.

Merlin's eyes snapped open and he peered at Arthur. "She's in the courtyard. We have to hurry."

Unsteady as he was, Merlin still would not loose another minute and Arthur had to admire his determination. They made their way speedily in the lower town with Leon leading the way and Gwaine indicating shortcuts here and there (he obviously knew his way around). Every few steps, Arthur glanced back at Merlin and to his great dismay the young sorcerer did not seem to be keeping up with the pace. His eyes were tired with dark circles under them, his skin was pale, and he kept stumbling on his shaky legs, grabbing Gaius or Lancelot's arm whenever he was about to tip over. Two times he had to stop to lean against a wall and his face contorted painfully.

The third time, he seemed to be struggling even more. He swayed slightly but when Gaius tried to catch his arm, he brushed him off stubbornly and leaned a hand on a nearby barrel instead, panting heavily.

"Merlin, you're not well…" the old physician began to say.

Merlin glared at him defiantly. "It doesn't matter!" he burst out. "We have to do something now!"

Arthur's heart sank. They couldn't keep waiting on Merlin; he would just have to pull him.

"Sire! This is madness!" cried out the physician.

Arthur meant to reply but he stumbled backwards instead, having come face to face with a solid wall of chain mail.

"_Arthur_! – I mean, my Lord!" cried out the Elyan in surprise. As his glance darted from the prince to the other people who were following him, his expression turned from shock to horror. "Holly Cow!" he breathed out. "That's Merlin! But Merlin is dead! We _buried_ him! What the Hell is this?"

But Arthur was quick. He had already pressed both hands on the young knight's shoulders. "He's alive, Elyan. You must _trust_ me. We're after Morgana. She's trying to get to Morgause."

Elyan became alert at once. "We _know_. She was spotted in the lower town. Agravaine had the guard doubled everywhere. Arthur – _Sire_ – the guards are saying that Morgana still has _magic_."

"So do _we_," said Arthur, staring back at Merlin.

However, as he glanced back at the young warlock, he saw that Merlin had crumbled to the ground with his back against a cart. Gaius was kneeling beside him, powerless.

Merlin was grabbing his head. His voice was barely a whisper. "She's hiding in a dark corner. The whole castle is stirring. Agravaine shouldn't have done that. Too many guards. Too much noise. She's getting angry."

Then his body shivered violently and he bent over in pain. Arthur kneeled beside him at once, grabbing him on the shoulder and arm as he swayed forward. But as soon as he touched Merlin's wrist, something strange happened. A tickling sensation passed through Arthur's hand, like little sparks. Merlin must have felt it too on his wrist because he jerked his arm away instantly.

"Did you feel that?" cried out Arthur.

Merlin was staring at him in shock. His eyes darted to Arthur's hand and he seized it, turning it over, feeling his palm and his fingers, checking the prince's wrist. In his excitement, he let the hood fall off his head; the sorcerer had reverted back to being the physician's apprentice.

"_Freya_," he muttered after he had examined Arthur's hand and forearm. "She placed a kind of magic on you. _You_ – You're my connection."

"What are you so pleased about?" Gwaine said all-of-a-sudden. He had been quiet up until now, watching Merlin like a hawk.

"Nothing. It's just… _perfect_," Merlin said dreamily.

But they couldn't get sidetracked. Morgana was inside the castle and she was angry; nothing could be worse. What if she tried something impulsive like killing her father?

Without even realising it, Arthur had stood up and he was now close to Leon.

"You and Elyan will get to the castle ahead of us and gather as many guards as you can in the dungeons. That's where we'll cut her off. And get Agravaine to go with you. I'd rather have him with us than working against us. Go."

As soon as he had finished, Sir Leon and Elyan left at a run.

Then Arthur kneeled in front of Merlin again. This time he had a request for the young warlock, and from the look of pain on his face, it wasn't going to be easy.

"Merlin, I need you to guide Morgana through the castle. Use your magic to show her the way, open doors, distract guards, until she reaches the cave. That's where I'll confront her. I don't want her going anywhere else."

Gaius opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw Merlin's expression change and he seemed to abandon the idea of arguing straight away.

"Are you asking me to do _magic_?" said the warlock almost in amusement.

His forehead was covered in sweat and he brushed the water from his eyes. Arthur couldn't help but smile. Merlin was still Merlin after all.

"I'm _ordering_ you, actually."

Standing up, the prince presented his hand to the sorcerer who took it to pull himself off the ground. Gaius took Merlin's arm and his pupil leaned on it, accepting the help after all.

After only a few seconds to gather his strength, he spoke resolutely. "Are you sure you're ready for this? Being seen with a sorcerer, I mean."

"I've been seen with an idiot for the last four years. I don't see how this is any different," said Arthur, pressing a hand on his shoulder.

"This will be different." He brought his hand close to his mouth and then he whispered, "_Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme_!"

A ball of clear blue light appeared out of thin air in the palm of Merlin's hand. It was pure and beautiful like a bubble of fresh water from a mountain lake. When Arthur glanced around him, however, he saw that the knights had taken a step back and that the peasants and merchants were rooted on the spot, horror-struck. One guard, alerted by the sudden silence, even drew out his sword and began to march towards them, but Lancelot stopped him at once.

"It's all right," said the knight to all who could hear him. "You mustn't fear."

Merlin was muttering under his breath now. "Morgana, follow the light. Go down the stairs now. Go."

His expression was unyielding and obstinate. He was still exhausted; Arthur could tell by the way he wasn't quite standing up straight and glancing at Gaius for support. But his determination was the same now as it had been every time they had faced death together.

"It's working," he said, his eyes focused on the ball of light.

"What now?" Gwaine asked. He was staring at the magic orb as well.

But Arthur was concerned for Merlin in spite the urgency of the situation. "Can you keep up?"

Merlin's only answer was to release the ball of light so that it floated freely in front of him, and then he started to follow it at a quick pace.

"Follow the light," uttered Gwaine with a meaningful glance at Arthur.

The three of them took the lead with Gaius following closely behind. Arthur did not even bother shouting orders at the guards that they met on their way. He had to focus on what lay ahead. The safety of his people and of Camelot was his priority. It was almost hard to believe that no one had died yet.

Merlin was still leading the blue orb in front of them when they entered the courtyard, and when they reached the bottom of the stairs he had to stop to catch his breath.

"She's in the tunnels below the castle," he mumbled, leaning against the stone wall and wiping the sweat of his brow.

Arthur meant to run up the stairs with or without Merlin, but he was stopped short when Gwaine grabbed him by the arm.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do, princess? How do you intent to confront her? She's a powerful evil witch, in case you haven't noticed, and Merlin isn't exactly on top of his game."

"Gwaine's right," continued Lancelot. "What's your plan?"

The prince's only answer was to draw his sword. In truth, he was scared to death, but he couldn't let two of his best knights know that. He was a man of action, trained to fight since birth, and he knew nothing else. If he had any chance of defeating her, it was using the only mean with which he would have the advantage.

"That's your plan?" burst out Gwaine.

They were cut off by a sudden yell. "Arthur! _Merlin_!"

The prince wheeled around and he saw Gaius running towards him, red-faced and clutching his chest. And as he followed the physician's glance, he saw to his horror a familiar body lying face-first on the ground, motionless.

The scream that escaped him didn't even sound like his own. He threw himself next to Merlin before the physician had even time to move.

"Come on, Merlin! Don't you dare die on me again!"

He shook the frail shoulders and then, to his relief, he heard a soft moan. The young warlock wasn't dead, but he had fainted and he was struggling to get up. The ball of light had vanished.

"Sire, he cannot face Morgana like this," Gaius said forcefully as soon as he reached Merlin.

But the physician's recommendations were immediately forgotten as Merlin began to voice out words that brought fear to the prince's heart. "Arthur, your father…"

"What?" the prince bellowed. "What's wrong?"

"It's your father. He's not well. You have to go to him now, and you have to take Gaius with you."

The prince did not need telling twice. He glanced rapidly at Gwaine and Lancelot, and then he took off at a run. He climbed the stairs two by two and did not even stop when Gaius called out his name. He knew the quickest way to his father's bedchambers and he followed it without a thought. With each step, his world seemed to be crumbling down. His father couldn't die. He simply couldn't. He didn't want to rule yet. He wasn't ready. He didn't feel ready. There was still so much that he wanted to do. He wanted to know more about magic. That door had never been opened before but now with Merlin he had the possibility of walking through it and seeing what lay beyond with his own eyes. But if his father died now, it would only feel like a betrayal. He had to be alive so that Arthur could make him understand that magic wasn't altogether evil…

It is with this thought that he flung the door of his father's bedchambers opened. The room was utterly empty but for a still figure lying on the four-poster bed. The prince stepped in closer carefully, afraid that he may make a horrifying discovery.

But he didn't. His father was sleeping uneasily, turning in his sleep and moaning softly. The chair (Gwen's chair) beside his bed was empty.

"Where's Guinevere?" muttered the prince, picking up a fallen white shawl from the floor.

Gaius had reached the bedchamber as well and he was now assessing the king's condition.

The physician let out a sigh of relief. "His pulse is weak for a man his age but steady nonetheless. He's not in anymore danger than he was yesterday."

"Then why would Merlin tell us…?"

Gaius froze in shock and so did the prince.

_How could I be so stupid?_ Arthur thought instantly. His head was spinning. _Merlin, what have you done?_

And then he took off at a run.

**Author's note:**

**Sorry this took a long time to write. Writing action is always the hardest and I had to re-write this chapter twice to get the pace that I wanted. So I hope you enjoyed it!**

**In the next chapter, Merlin will confront Morgana…**


	22. Morgana is an evil witch

**Author's note:**

**Season 4 is going to rock!**

**That's all I have to say.**

**Enjoy the chapter.**

**Chapter 22: In which**** Morgana is an evil witch**

Merlin stood rooted on the spot at the bottom of the stairs, watching Arthur and Gaius disappear through the front door and feeling the weight of what he had just done come down upon him with its inevitable wave of cold mind-numbing fear.

He pulled himself off the ground with some difficulty, and then he tucked his cloak around him in an attempt to stop himself from shaking. If only he wasn't in such a weak state, then he might actually stand a chance. As it were, just to brush Morgana's dark magic felt like someone was knocking him on the head with a hammer. She was so full of anger and hate now. Morgause's death (if he could manage that) was likely to send her sister in a fury that could potentially destroy everything in her path. It was all up to him to contain her and find a way to incapacitate her somehow. If only he could have a talk with Kilgharrah. He looked deep within him, on the spot where his soul and the Great Dragon's were one, but there was nothing there anymore but a black emptiness. How did it come to this?

"All right, Merlin?" said Gwaine with concern on his face.

Before Merlin could form an answer, he heard Lancelot's voice whisper to his ear. "It was a brave thing you just did."

Gwaine seemed puzzled. "What's that exactly?"

"Sending Arthur off in another direction," Lancelot replied matter-of-factly.

Gwaine took Merlin by the shoulders and wheeled him around so swiftly that it made his head spin. "You said the king was in danger! You _lied_?"

"To protect Arthur!" bellowed Merlin, outraged.

Gwaine's grin widened. "Just when I thought I was getting to know you, I'm _blown away_ by your bravery, Merlin."

_Great, now I'm blushing_, thought the young warlock, rolling his eyes up.

"You're not going to get rid of us that easily, though," said Lancelot with a hand on his shoulder.

Merlin had no words to describe the strong attachment that he felt at that moment for the two knights. He wished that he wasn't leading them into a dangerous situation, but he knew that it was useless to try and persuade them otherwise. So instead he took the lead and showed them to the servants' gate which he knew to be the fastest way to the cave. Arthur, who was used to the castle's grand halls, staircases and corridors, would never have thought to go in that way. Together, they ran through the kitchens and then down to the secret tunnels without even encountering any guards.

Merlin knew every hidden stair and all the gaps in the walls underneath the castle (he had once hid Freya from the bounty hunter there) so he didn't even have to concentrate too much on where he was going. He could therefore focus on his magic and on summoning enough of it to compensate for the poor state of his body. As he climbed down the narrow passageways, he allowed his magic to fill his arms and legs such that he barely felt the stone floor underneath his feet anymore. Gates and locked doors were of second importance, opening instantly at his approach and then closing just as easily behind Lancelot and Gwaine. When the two knights grabbed torches, Merlin didn't even need to use a spell to light them; they burst into flames as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"This is freaking me out," muttered Gwaine, looking up at the torch. "It's a wonder you managed to keep your magic a secret for so long."

"It's not usually like this," replied Merlin. They were just up the stairs that he had often visited late at night to seek advice from the Great Dragon. He came to a halt, having felt Morgana's magic not far from them. "My magic and Morgana's – it's like they can't mix, like water and oil."

"What does that mean?" Lancelot asked.

Merlin allowed himself a short moment to think. An idea had been forming in his mind as they were going down the empty and dark tunnels. The only time he had felt magic this powerful had been in the presence of Cornelius Sigan.

"I know a spell," he whispered, remembering that dark hour when he had defeated the powerful sorcerer.

"I was hoping you would. Whatever it is, I hope it can cause some serious damage," Gwaine replied playfully.

Merlin was too caught in his own thoughts to laugh at the joke. "You can't force magic of such opposite nature to coexist in the same shell. Eventually one will dominate the other and cancel it out. I did it once. Sigan thought he could claim my magic as his own, but he failed. To use something like that against Morgana..."

He let his voice trail off, remembering the painful moment when Sigan had tried to take over his soul. There had been more than just his magic on the line, but he didn't want to tell that to the two knights beside him. They didn't need to know how close he had come to giving in to the darkness.

"If it has a chance to work, I'm sure you'll find a way," Lancelot said hopefully.

Merlin was trying to picture the spell and what it implied. It was old magic, perhaps as old as the dragons. He would have to summon the power from deep within his soul where his magic was rooted, where it took birth and flowed in and out of him.

"I'll have to get close to Morgana," he uttered. "Very close. _Hugging_ kind of close."

"Then you're going to need a divers..."

The end of the sentence was lost to Merlin. A familiar voice was ringing in his mind and he tried hard not to let it fade. _I can't hold her off much longer... Merlin... Help us... _

Gwaine and Lancelot were staring at him as though he was about to faint, but his tiredness had given way to a solid determination. No longer cold and shaking, he cast his heavy cloak on the ground.

"_Freya_," he breathed out, and then he closed his eyes and formed a reply in his mind. _I'm here. What do you mean by_ us_? Who's with you?_

A cold, cruel laugh filled the air, reaching the top of the stairs where they were waiting, echoing through the tunnels and bouncing off the walls. It was in his mind as well as all around him.

"I know you're here, you pathetic little sorcerer!" cried out Morgana. "I'm tired of this game. Either you come down here, or they _both_ die."

"Wait, Merlin!" called out Lancelot as the young warlock raced forward.

Their eyes met and Lancelot released his arm at once. "Give us something to do. I beg you or I will go mad," muttered the knight.

Merlin grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a brief hug. "Just keep Arthur safe. Keep him from doing anything _stupid_. I don't care how you do it. Knock him on the head if you have to."

"Like what you're doing isn't," mumbled Gwaine, and then he hugged Merlin as well.

After that warm goodbye, Merlin was at last alone on the empty stairs as he so often had, except that this time he did not know what he was going to find at the bottom. It was utterly black but for the light of his torch and a faint orange glow at the end of the flight. Probably Morgana had lit a few torches herself. However, he had never felt anything as dark as her magic. As he was getting closer, he could feel it biting and clawing at his soul like some savage beast. She was probably not even aware of the effect that it was having on him. In fact, she did not know much about his magic, except for the fact that he still had it while nobody else seemed to.

"_Finally_," she snarled as soon as his feet touched the last step. "I'm sure it will be much easier to get an answer out of you than out of _her_."

As Merlin crossed the cave's entrance, his glance immediately fell on Morgana. Her black outline was flaunted against the deep and dark abyss behind her. The peak of rocks on which Kilgharrah had once sat now seemed much further away and treacherous. And on the edge of the cliff, lying on the ground with a piece of black cloth under her blond head was the still body of Morgause. Her skin was so pale that it was almost transparent and her lips were a lifeless grey. She didn't even look alive.

"Merlin!" shrieked a small voice against the stone wall.

He had expected to hear Freya, but it wasn't. It was someone who shouldn't even be there.

"Gwen!"

Morgana's former maid (and Arthur's lover) was hunched beside the stone wall like a scared animal. Her dress was torn in many places and she had a long gash on her cheek. Merlin wanted to run to her, but he stopped short as Morgana pulled out another figure out of the shadow. This time is was Freya.

"No, don't!" he shouted as Morgana grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her close to the edge.

_Freya_. Her sightless eyes were pale but he could still read the fear in them. Her body bore so many bruises that Merlin's eyes filled up with tears as he stared at her. Had she been tortured? Would he ever forgive himself for allowing her to endure so much suffering in his stead? But Morgana wasn't going to kill Freya; she needed her to revive Morgause. She was merely taunting him now; such were Morgana's evil ways.

_It's all right_, he said to Freya with his mind's voice. _Please don't be scared. I'm going to look after you..._

"That's very touching, Merlin," snalred Morgana. "I didn't even know you had a sweetheart. Then again, you _are_ kind of secretive, aren't you?"

He took a step forward defiantly. "Freya can't bring back Morgause. Nothing can."

"You're wrong!" bellowed Morgana, and in an outburst of anger the ground and the walls of the cave shook so violently that Merlin struggled to remain standing.

In the corner, Gwen gave a small yelp and covered her head as bits of the roof came down upon her, laying a thick layer of dust in her dark curls. As he glanced back at Morgana, Merlin saw in her eyes the last glimmer of gold fade away. She was breathing deeply to steady herself and her hands were shaking.

"I can help you, Morgana," he said, venturing a little closer.

She glared at him. "You've had plenty of chances," she said between gritted teeth, "but you choose to be selfish and leave me alone with my own dark thoughts and my own despair. You left me alone, Merlin. ALONE!"

She raised her hand and Merlin was thrown backwards, pushed as though by an invisible hand. His body slammed hard against the wall of rocks. Sparks of light erupted before his eyes as a wave of pain hit him on his back and head. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the ground, lying flat on his belly, and quite unable to move.

There had been a shriek too, but it took him too long to realise who it was. As he regained his senses, he saw that Gwen was kneeling beside him and Morgana was dangerously close.

The witch raised her hand again and Merlin had to shove Gwen aside so that he could counter her spell.

"_Astrice_!"

Morgana moved swiftly out of the way. "Is that all you've got, Merlin?" She laughed.

And then, out of the darkness, Merlin saw Freya jump at Morgana's back in an attempt to bring the witch down with her. But Freya was so small and fragile that Morgana tossed her off as though she weighed nothing.

"Don't _hurt_ her!" Merlin yelled frantically.

"Poor Merlin," hissed Morgana. "But, you see, I've already done _that_."

His heart seemed to freeze in shock. His eyes fell on Freya's shaking body, the look of pain and exhaustion on her face, and he felt at that moment like his magic was going to explode out of him. The wave that hit him could have been a blow from a spell, but it was his own magic. It knocked all the breath out of him. If he allowed it to burst out, the consequences could be terrible. It would be like setting free a thunderstorm. He couldn't risk it; not with Gwen and Freya in the cave with them.

_Don't let it control __you,_ a soft voice murmured in his head. _You're strong, Merlin. More than you know. You were named after a bird. You can soar above this storm... _

He was brought back to reality by Morgana's cruel laugh. "Let's see if you can _soar_ above this, Merlin."

She spoke words of dark magic and the ground began to tremble again. She was commanding to the very earth beneath their feet. The roof over their heads began to crack. Morgana's power seemed to intensify, making Merlin's head throb painfully as he felt the two intertwining forces. Her magic was like a pool of boiling water threatening to spill over at any moment. _Soar above the pain_, he kept repeating himself, but it wasn't helping him at all.

Suddenly, a large boulder detached itself from the cave wall. It would have crushed them if Merlin hadn't stopped it in midair with magic. Morgana's face twisted in anger and she started flinging stones twice her size at him, one after the other, as quickly as if she was throwing daggers. Merlin dodged them with all his might, sending them flying in every corners of the cave. One of them almost hit Morgause's unconscious form, but Morgana made it explode in a fine rain of dust before it could do any harm.

"How dare you?" she snarled.

Merlin instantly sensed her magic swell up like a bubble about to burst. He braced his feet on the ground for her next spell, placing himself in front of Gwen to protect her against what was to come.

He cried "_G__escildan_!" as a shower of shards exploded all around him. But his spell wasn't enough to shield Gwen from the razor-sharp rocks. As soon as he heard her scream, he wheeled around, wrapping her in his arms and covering her with his body instead. The rocks slashed through his tunic, ripping his skin like claws. Still he did not budge.

"How noble, Merlin!" snapped Morgana. "Protecting Arthur's girl..."

But he didn't let her finish the sentence. He cried "_Forbearne_!" with his eyes fixed on the witch.

The flames that he conjured up were not yellow and orange but pure white and blue. It engulfed Morgana like hundreds of tongues until all he could see of her was her dark outline and her flowing hair trapped inside a cocoon of magic.

"Merlin, your back... You're _hurt_," muttered Gwen in a weak, panicked voice.

It was true. He could feel a pounding sting between his shoulder blades. Hot blood was pouring from what was by the feel of it a deep gash.

"_Freya_. Please, Gwen… Help _her_," he said despairingly.

Guinevere did not waste a minute. She ran left of the ball of blue flames in which Morgana was thrashing. When she reached Freya, she pulled her up by her frail shoulders and began to drag her towards the entrance to the cave. Freya could hardly walk on her feet which were covered with bruises and blood. Merlin wanted to help Gwen and to comfort Freya. Her injuries, her tears, her pain, her sightless eyes; they were his entire fault. What else had she given up so that he could live? He couldn't disappoint her. He had to focus on Morgana and concentrate on what he needed to do next to defeat her. He had to overpower her somehow; but her magic felt like it wanted to kill _him_, not the other way around.

Black spots began to cloud his vision. His right hand was shaking. But he couldn't pass out when Gwen and Freya were still in danger...

"You didn't think that you could overpower me, Merlin, did you?" Morgana suddenly said in a fierce voice that filled his ears and seemed to reach down into his soul.

She was no longer thrashing behind the blue flames but quite still. And then, without warning, she stepped out of the fire.

She raised her hand, ready to strike, but something stumped her. A shadow crossed her face and she wheeled around in a rush. Merlin's gaze followed hers.

Behind her, kneeling beside the wall of stone, invisible in a black cloak and hood, Gwaine was holding a dagger over the motionless body of Morgause.

The blade was dripping with blood.


	23. Fire and Ice meet

**Warning: strong emotional stuff in this chapter. Possibly a few tears. Readers, beware!**

**Chapter 22: In which**** Fire and Ice meet**

The scream of anguish and pain let out by Morgana shook all of Camelot's foundations of stone. Merlin felt it cut through his soul like a blade. He had never felt such darkness before. It knocked all the breath out of him. He remained rooted in shock as a veil of blackness started to twirl around Morgana.

Gwaine did not stand a chance. He was hit by a strong wave of magic that sent him crashing into the wall. He fell on the ground, not unconscious but stunned. The bloody dagger slipped from his hand and disappeared into the depth of the cave.

Guinevere let out a panicked shriek and she bent over Freya's frail body protectively. Parts of the cave's roof began to come down all around the two women. They were trapped in a shower of rocks and dust.

And then another terrified voice filled the cave.

"GUINEVERE!"

_Oh no, Arthur_… thought Merlin.

The young warlock was standing halfway between Arthur and Morgana; exactly where he ought to be, he realised. As the prince rushed forward, Merlin raised both hands and summoned all the magic he could to keep the cave from collapsing on top of them. He knew that his eyes were burning gold unceasingly from the powerful incantation.

Guinevere shrieked again as a large boulder came down between her and Arthur. Morgana's magic was slowly but incessantly turning into a storm of blackness. She didn't even look like Lady Morgana anymore; her eyes had turned black and her hair was flowing around her head like a dark aura. To defeat her, Merlin was going to brave that nightmare that she was becoming, but he couldn't do it with Gwen, Freya and Arthur potentially in danger.

"Gwaine?" he called out while his eyes remained fixed on Morgana.

For a split second, he dreaded the possibility that the knight wasn't going to answer. And then… "Merlin! What's happening?"

More rocks were coming down, the ground was rumbling continuously, the ledge wasn't going to hold much longer; his magic alone wasn't enough to hold the cave together. If he couldn't use the rocks to hold the foundations, then he would have to use something much stronger, but that wasn't going to be easy.

"Gwaine! You need to get Arthur out!" he cried out without even glancing back.

The answer was a panicked scream from the prince. "No! Don't worry about _me_! Save _Guinevere_! Merlin, I beg you!"

"_Now_, Gwaine!" Merlin insisted.

Scanning his surroundings quickly, Merlin realised that Arthur was trying to navigate the falling rocks to reach the ledge on which Gwen and Freya were trapped and unmoving. Gwaine was just a few paces behind Arthur but now the prince looked as though he wanted to jump over a gap that looked particularly treacherous. _He can't jump that_, Merlin thought despairingly. He couldn't keep the cave together and save the prince from the long deadly fall…

And then, out of nowhere, Lancelot showed up and pulled Arthur down just in time.

When he turned his attention back to Morgana, he saw that she was standing over Morgause's still and deathly pale body. The darkness surrounding Morgana was like a long flowing cloak. The witch bent down and kissed the blond head. Something seemed to pass in the kiss and Morgause's corpse turned to ashes at once, dissolving in the blackness around Morgana until there was absolutely nothing left of her sister.

And then her black eyes turned to Merlin and her look stung his heart. Murder was in her face. But he was trapped just like Gwen and Freya under the crumbling cave. If he moved, it would collapse on top of them. All that he could really do was brace himself for whatever she was going to throw at him.

"You took away what I loved most," she snarled in a voice that was both grievously sad and savagely angry. "I shall do the same to you."

"No! _I_ killed Morgause!" yelled Gwaine. "Look at me! Don't you dare…"

But the rest of his plea was lost in a thundering crash as the ledge trembled and began to split from the rest of the rocky cliff. And there was nothing on that ledge except the motionless forms of Gwen and Freya. They were huddled fearfully, with nothing to protect them from the crumbling rocks except Merlin's magic.

In a split second, the young warlock had to decide between the collapsing cave and the two women tumbling into the emptiness below. Throwing himself forward on the razor-sharp rocks, he slid face forward as the ledge began to detach itself from the cliff. He stretched both his hands and reached out to Gwen with his right and Freya with his left. The weight of the two women pulled him down until his upper body was hanging dangerously from the rough edge with nothing but darkness below. Gwen was swinging her feet frantically and she managed to clasp her second hand firmly on Merlin's wrist. His grip on Freya's hand however wasn't as firm or as determined.

Behind him, he could hear Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine yelling in horror, but the collapsing cave had no doubt forced them to retreat closer to the wall. It was all up to him now…

"Freya! Come on! Use your other hand!" he cried out, his voice strained from the effort.

What was left of the ledge was only holding on in this position because Merlin was using his magic to keep it so. Any second now, either Morgana was going to cast the final blow that would send all three of them into the nothingness below or the foundations of Camelot were going to cave in and swallow them into its belly like some gigantic monster.

Why wasn't Freya even trying to pull herself up?

"Merlin, my love," said Freya, and the young warlock was shocked by how calm and resolute she sounded.

"No…" he pleaded. He had only just found her. This couldn't be happening.

"It was meant to be this way. Save Gwen and Camelot. I know you can. I shall see you again. I'll be waiting for you by the Lake. _Always_. You must let me go, my love. Let me go…"

Tears were streaming down his face. He couldn't hold on to Freya without releasing Gwen, and he couldn't save the two women with his magic while it was the only thing keeping the cave from collapsing.

Freya's sightless eyes turned away from his gaze to glance at the emptiness beyond her dangling feet, and then, with one final look into his face, she yanked her hand free and disappeared into the darkness.

She was gone.

A small muffled cry of agony was the only sound that came out of his throat.

"Merlin, _please_…" said another moaning voice.

With all of his might (and his now free left hand) he pulled Gwen up unto the ledge, releasing her only when she was securely kneeling on the rocks beside him. His eyes were so filled up with tears that he barely saw it when she pressed both her hands on his cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered between sobs. "I'll never forget it. Merlin, we have to get out of here _now_."

How he managed to get on his feet, he could hardly tell, but the three familiar outlines that greeted him and Guinevere nearly knocked him over.

A strong hand on his shoulder was shaking him.

"_Merlin_, she's gone. You must move on _now_. If the cave collapses, so will Camelot. _Merlin_, can you hear me?"

Freya falling into nothingness; it was the only image in his mind. Not Camelot. Not Arthur. _Freya_. He had never realised how much he loved her, and now he would never be able to tell her. That single thought was more painful than all of his other scars and burdens.

Suddenly, he heard a soft murmur; not in his head, but somewhere deeper as though she was speaking directly to his spirit or his soul.

_Whenever you seek me, you shall find me. Now save Camelot.__ That is your destiny._

His eyes snapped open. He glanced in every direction but he could only see frightened faces and crumbling rocks. His magic was keeping them from being crushed, but only barely.

Uttering a spell, he summoned more magic to him, enough to make the way safe from the remains of the ledge to the entrance of the cave. The path in front of them lit up in a sort of tunnel of light. He pushed Arthur and Gwen in front of him, and then Gwaine and Lancelot, and finally he started to run after them.

The first thing that they saw at the end of the tunnel of light was Sir Leon's face, followed closely by a dozen other knights who were all waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Leon immediately took hold of Arthur's arm. Elyan leapt forward, wrapping his arms around his sister and cradling her head unto his chest.

"Sire, the whole citadel is shaking. It's the foundations of Camelot that she's trying to bring down," said Leon.

Suddenly Merlin felt all eyes turn to him, but he shook his head darkly.

"She's too strong. We must evacuate the city," he said as convincingly as he could.

Lancelot and Gwaine bent their heads low. Somehow, they felt defeated. Only Arthur did not seem as crestfallen.

"If the people live on, then Camelot is not destroyed."

"Then we have to hurry," agreed Leon.

The ground shuddered violently and Merlin wheeled around to stare at the scene. Morgana's fury had turned into a swirl of blackness. Rock and stones were falling freely from the ceiling in a thunder of deafening crashes. But the chaos was not only in front of their eyes, it was also in the deep magic. Merlin could feel the oppressing power of hatred and despair threatening the fabric of the world. Even if Camelot did survive through its people, he knew that everything else that was good about that dream would be sucked eventually into that deep bottomless abyss of gloom that Morgana was creating. Maybe not right away, but with each passing year the beacon of hope would slowly be consumed like a candle slowly dying out.

_Unless_… It was desperate, but he had to at least try.

Muttering a spell under his breath, he began to turn the air cold, as cold as the coldest snowstorm, until a thick layer of ice started to creep around the entrance to the cave, slowly sealing the doorway and separating him from those that he wanted to protect more than anything else in the world.

Familiar voices bellowed at him in panic, but he couldn't listen to them. Slowly, the wall of ice muffled their cries until all that he could hear was the rumbling and the thundering of the crumbling cave. He murmured "_Leoth_!" and the spell cast a small light in the palm of his hand. He then stretched out his magic in search of Morgana. As he felt the touch of her dark powers, he did not feel pain or anger. He only wanted it all to be over.

He was allowing the cold and ice to grow around him and it was now creeping along the walls, surrounding boulders, filling gaps in the ground and crawling upwards towards the roof of stones. He could feel his body and senses slowly becoming numb. The air was coming out of his mouth in little puffs of smoke. The noises and the chaos were slowly being replaced by a dreadful silence just as threatening as the destructive rumbling.

And then he saw her. _Morgana_. She had fallen on her knees on the same spot where the Great Dragon had once sat. Her eyes were no longer black but they were dried and tearless. She glanced up at him as he stood on the edge of the ledge from which Freya had fallen. There was a deep rift between them filled only by darkness. Her gaze was as cold as the air around them.

"Do you hate me now, Merlin? I've taken everything from you. You are as lonely as I am."

He took a step forward while carefully avoiding slipping on the ice. "You're _wrong_, Morgana," he uttered.

He allowed the light in the palm of his hand to become brighter. To his amazement, the whole cave began to gleam around him, not too brilliantly, but enough to bring an element of beauty to the chaos. There was something oddly familiar too about all that shimmering ice. The sparkling icicles shone like diamonds or crystals. And then he remembered. In one of his dreams, he had been standing in a crystal cave just like this…

"Do you really think that _ice_ is going to keep Camelot together? I have enough _fire_ in me to melt all of your walls, Merlin," she sneered.

Something in her demeanour, however, seemed strangely off. For one thing, she kept to her kneeling position. Her magic did not feel weakened. Why wasn't she fighting back?

He decided to venture further.

Raising his hand, he fashioned the ice into a bridge overlapping the deep gulf. It wasn't a very wide bridge, but thick enough for him to walk on.

"You really are an _idiot_, Merlin," mumbled Morgana. "One word from me and I will brake your bridge."

He shook his head, and then he began to cross.

"What do you think you're doing?" There was panic in her voice now.

He wanted until he was on the other side to reply. "You're so wrong, Morgana. You're wrong about so many things. And you're not alone."

"Don't you dare tell me that I am _not alone_!" she burst out. Her voice echoed along the slippery walls. "I _am_ alone! My sister is gone! You could have helped me, but you never did. Nobody…"

Her voice broke, but still she did not cry. She was only starring at him as though daring him to test her powers.

"I can _crush_ you," she concluded, her eyes glaring.

"Yes, I think you can," he said in spite of his better judgement. "But why? Would you really kill one of your own? You're not a murderer, Morgana."

"Do you think that I won't kill you because you have magic? I've killed plenty."

She kept her eyes on him as she spoke, yet he could feel her desire to look away. Was it shame? Was it guilt?

"What I think, Morgana, is that you do not know yourself anymore."

He spoke softly as he said this, and he even kneeled in front of her. He looked down at her hands and he saw that she was robbing them in an attempt to fight off the cold. He hesitated, and then he took her hands between his. As soon as she felt this, she tried to snatch her hands away but he caught her instantly.

"What are you doing?" she asked anxiously. "You _hate_ me. You _must_ hate me. I took away the one you love. I did it selfishly. She's not coming back."

The image of Freya burst into his mind, and then her words: _I shall see you again. I'll be waiting for you by the Lake. Always. _

"You're wrong again, Morgana. You have all that power, but you don't know anything about life or people, so you really have nothing."

"You should watch what you're saying, Merlin." As she said this, she pulled her hands free and grabbed his wrist instead. The jolt of pain that the touch sent through his body was agonising. She was so powerful that she could torture him just with her mind.

Merlin swallowed a scream and bit his lip. He couldn't leave her now. Whatever she was doing to him, he couldn't let her win.

"One thing I do have is victory. Your pitiful _ice_ will melt and Camelot will fall. It's already starting.

He turned his face upwards and felt a few drops of water fall on his skin. Her hands were still firmly clasped on his wrists and while he was fighting off the pain, his magic was faltering.

"Do you hate me now?" she snarled through clenched teeth.

He shuddered, but still he was determined to see this through to the end.

"I don't _hate_ you," he whispered. "What happened to you could easily have happened to me. You are so loved, Morgana, but you don't even know it."

"Maybe I was," she murmured back, her voice shaking, "but not anymore."

"You still _are_," he insisted. "Why do you think Arthur can't bring himself to kill you? He could _never_ kill you. The king – you mean the world to him. You don't _have_ to be alone."

She seemed so fragile now, more so even than Freya. "But I _am_ alone, Merlin. I'm wrapped in darkness. I _am_ darkness. There is nothing for me left…"

"The loneliest hour," he said, "is just before the dawn."

At those words, her expression turned into shock. There could only be one explanation for it.

"You have seen this, haven't you?" he asked quietly. "You have seen your end."

"The crystal cave," she murmured with some difficulty. She glanced upwards at the melting ice. "In my dreams, I'm locked away in a tomb made out of crystals and I'm… _happy_ and at peace. Now I know it was only a deception…"

"Is _that_ what you really want, Morgana?"

She glared at him, defiantly, with her eyes full of hatred. "_That_, and the destruction of Camelot."

Now the ice was melting even faster. Merlin could feel cold water dripping on his hair and face. Morgana's hair too was splattered against her white skin. In just a few minutes, the ice would all be gone and the cave would crumble on top of them.

But Morgana, it seemed, did not care that she lived or die. Her desire for revenge had taken precedence over all of her other dreams. She was truly lost, and the only way out for her was to have all that darkness annihilated from her being.

"You can't have Camelot," he whispered.

"Then you will die protecting a dream that will never be," she sneered.

But she had not seen what he had seen. She had not dreamt of that perfect summer day during which Arthur was to become king. She had not seen the heroic knights being welcomed by the cheering crowd. She had not felt the joy of those moments the way that he had, because there was nothing left in the world that could bring her hope or happiness. Even her visions of the future were of her own bitter end.

But it didn't matter now because he was going to free her.

"Then I only have one thing left to say, Morgana. _Ic thin sawol her beluce, abide thaet ic the alyse_!"

And then, before she could even realise what the incantation implied, he leaned forward and pressed his lips on hers; not in a lover's kiss but just on the corner of her mouth, sealing the spell with the intimate contact. She pulled on his wrist as he kissed her, but he did not feel any pain. He allowed her to absorb the gesture and recognise it as a sign of love, not romantic love, but the deeper kind, the kind that made her kin to his heart.

Just as her touch had brought him nothing but pain, _his_ touch seemed to release all of her anger and bitterness. The darkness inside her burst out into him, filling his soul with a stream of images and feelings. He saw her whole life, her anguish, her pain, her suffering, her loneliness, and her losses. It all crashed down on him like a storm, threatening to engulf him in a blackness that was nothing less than the dark mirror of his own torments.

He felt the dark magic take hold of him as it had when Cornelius Sigan had tried to possess him, except that this time it was a hundred times more potent. All that he could do was to hang on to that spark of light deep within him. There was a part of his soul that was tied to the Old Religion, that spot also held the sacred gift handed down by his father and everything else that made him who he was as opposed to what Morgana had become.

But the pain was unbearable. The battle that was going on inside of him was setting his entire body on fire. He could no longer talk or move or breathe. He felt himself slide on the slippery rocks. The cold ice had disappeared and given way to another kind of sharp edges. He groped in the dark to grab hold of Morgana, but he only cut and bruised his fingers on stone.

And then, he thought of Arthur and Gwen and Gaius and Lancelot and Gwaine. Their faces burst into his mind in an intense and powerful light. He could only hope that they were all right, that Camelot had not crumbled into a black whole, and that Freya would be waiting for him by the Lake.

And then he felt his body and his mind slip into nothingness.

And then he knew no more.

**Author's note:**

**The spell Merlin uses is from Season 2, Episode 1: **_The Curse of Cornelius Sigan_**. The possible**** meaning according to Merlin Wiki is "**_I shut in your noble soul, to remain behind after I liberate you.__**" **_

**But the story is not finished, so keep reading…**


	24. Arthur meets a dragonlord

**Author's note:**

**I know my updates have been slow, but this story is coming to an end and I wanted to get it right. Only one chapter left after that. To all of those who kept up with the story, thanks a million, and don't forget to drop a word into my review box. That always makes my day!**

**Also, Season 4 is beyond awesome so far! ***jumping up and down *** Can't wait for more! **

**Here you go now…**

**Chapter 23: In which Arthur meets a dragonlord**

He woke up to the smell of fresh grass and the sound of a small stream trickling peacefully next to his ears. He was lying curled up on a heap of leaves and fragrant herbs that were way too soft and green to belong to the real world. His body was aching just a little, with a dull pain particularly on his back, and he felt strangely rested as though he had just spent a good night's sleep in his own bed. But he wasn't in his bed, was he? He was some place else. Perhaps he wasn't even really awake. Perhaps he was in the Other World again, and he was going to open his eyes and see Freya next to him, her long black hair blowing in the wind, and her _smile_…

And then suddenly his mind was filled with another image: Freya with pale eyes and bruises on her face falling into nothingness. In a flash, he recalled how he had been powerless to catch her. He rolled on his side, feeling a wave of sadness and guilt overpowering him, and then his glance fell on something quite unexpected: a pair of bare-naked feet and the rim of a silky lavender dress.

He sprung to his feet. "Freya!"

There she was, smiling at him. Her eyes were no longer pale and sightless, her white skin no longer bruised, even her dress looked as though it was brand new. In fact, she was more beautiful than in his dreams.

Before she could even utter a word, he had sealed her lips with a passionate kiss. He brought her close to him, eyes filled with tears, marvelling at the fact that she had not perished but was quite alive. Her heart was beating as fast as his.

"Where are we?" he muttered as his eyes caught a subtle glimmer all around them.

They were in some kind of cave and the walls seemed to be made of multicoloured jewels that were casting a faint glow around them. It was as though the light was actually coming from inside the walls.

"It's your crystal cave," whispered Freya.

"Did _you_ do this?" he uttered in wonder.

She laughed. "No, _you_ did, Merlin. You turned ice into crystals. You made the foundations of Camelot stronger than rock and stone. This cave will never crumble again."

Merlin's eyes turned upwards. They were standing at the very bottom of the pit and the walls on all the sides seemed to be going up forever. But at the base, where there should be only darkness, instead there were rays of pale colours dancing on the walls. A small pool of water was leaking slowly into a stream that disappeared into a crack in the stone. And all round the pool, a bed of grass and green herbs had been laid down for them.

He took Freya's face in his hands, delicately, and kissed her again.

"I was afraid that you were gone, and that I would never get the chance to…"

He let his voice trail off while he buried his face in her dark hair and took in her scent. She smelled of morning dew and wild flowers.

"Merlin, whatever you think this is… it _cannot_ last…"

But he pressed a kiss on her lips. "Let's not talk," he murmured.

Gently, he pulled her down on the bed of soft green on which he had been sleeping just a few minutes ago. He wanted to think of nothing except her presence, her heartbeat and her cool skin against his. He allowed his fingers to dance on her hair, on her neck, on her back. The silky dress slid off her shoulders. His white shirt lay discarded as well. Her fingers were tracing his many scars. They kissed without restraint. They were alone in the world with nothing to hinder them. Everything was quiet in the depth of the crystal cave except the sound of trickling water and the echo of their rapid breathing.

How long they lay down there with their bodies intertwined, he could not really tell. It might have been hours or days, and the most beautiful thing about it was that it wasn't even a dream. If they couldn't have anything else, as Freya seemed to think, than at least they would have this moment to remember forever.

They were laying on the bed of grass, side by side, his fingers caressing her mane of black hair, when he noticed a long vine crawling along the walls of crystal all the way up towards the ceiling of the cave.

Freya followed his glance. "That is your way out," she said softly.

There was also something else up there: a ledge made out of clear crystal with a black shadow inside it.

"_Morgana_…" he began to say.

She forced him to face her. "Listen to me. You tried to save her and she could not be saved. You can do no more for her."

He jumped to his feet. "But she's trapped! I can't just leave her…"

"You can and you must," she said more forcefully. "This cave was always meant to be _her_ end. Not _yours_."

She got up to face him.

"I did this," he said, hearing his own bitterness in his voice. "She isn't dead. How can I just move on?"

She took his hands between hers. "Morgana's part in this story has ended. It is your turn now, my love. You must be strong. The road ahead will not be easy. Arthur needs you."

Something in the tone of her voice made his heart sink.

"Why are you saying that? _You_ – you're coming with me!" As he spoke, her eyes filled up with tears but her expression remained resolute. "You're saying goodbye!" he burst out. "But you can't. Not _again_. I won't allow it!"

"Merlin, my love, it was never meant to be like this. When you died, I asked for the power to bring you back. I knew the price and I accepted it. I will never be mortal again. I am bond to the Lake now, _forever_. It was my destiny to save you so that you could accomplish your own."

"No," he managed to breathe out. "You didn't have to…"

His voice broke. She took his face between her hands and kissed him. He could taste her tears in her kiss.

"Of course, I had to. Your life is so much more important than mine. I would have done anything for one kiss from you. But your gift to me was the most precious of all. You made me feel alive and… loved."

And then she kissed him and he felt something new in her touch: an aura of magic was now surrounding her. Her lips were not her lips anymore. They were made of water and light. He meant to grad her, to hold her just a while longer, but as he moved in closer she burst into a million glittering drops of water that came raining down on the pool at his feet. He saw her face and her smile beneath the glimmering surface of the water, and then her murmur filled the cave.

_Whenever you need me, you will find me by the Lake. Always._

All became quiet around him. Somehow, the bottom of the pit seemed like a lonely place now. He longed to hear familiar voices. Arthur and the knights were probably still trying to find a way into the cave.

He looked up at the green vine that was crawling along the wall of crystals. It would be a long way up, but he had plenty of time and he didn't even have to hurry.

Slowly but surely, he started to climb. With each step, he could get a better look at the cave. In all his life, he had never seen anything like it. It was as though hundreds of diamonds and jewels had just grown out of the stone. Each crystal seemed to hold a light of its own. Many colors were cascading long the walls in glowing showers of light. Above his head, arches and pillars of crystal and rocks were holding up the foundations of Camelot like the many fingers of some god-like creature.

When he reached the highest ledge, he stopped a little to rest and to stare at what was now Morgana's tomb. He could recall that she had been kneeling when he had kissed her, but now she was lying down peacefully with her hands on her chest. The crystals seemed to have grown around her, wrapping her in a transparent coffin of stone. He silhouette underneath the surface was as dark as the magic he had felt in her, yet she looked less like a witch and more like a sleeping princess out of a fairy tale.

He allowed his fingers to trace her outline on the stone, but he didn't trust himself enough to remain there too long, so after only a few minutes he began to climb again.

He knew that Freya was right, of course. Morgana's part in the story of Arthur and Camelot had come to a sudden stop. Yet he didn't feel so sure that she was truly gone. She was after all his opposite, _the darkness to his light_, as Kilgharrah had once put it. And like life and death, fire and ice, day and night, hatred and love, her existence was tied to his, just like their magic. One day perhaps she would awaken to take her revenge, and on that day he would be there to stand between her and Arthur just like he had always been.

It is with that thought that he reached the end of the vine and the highest ceiling of the cave. His arms were tired now but there was nothing else for him to hold on to, except the crawling plant. Freya had said that this was his way out, yet he could not see any exit.

And then, without even knowing, the words to open the wall of crystals came out of him in the same deep voice that he was used to hear when he was calling the Great Dragon. The crystals seemed to twist and turn until the gap was big enough for him to heave himself into it and crawl through.

He was not surprised, after a few minutes of struggling out of a hole in the ground, to find that he was not in the city but just outside of its outer walls. It would have been really awkward to find himself in the dungeons or the king's vault, so he took it as a good sign.

He was brushing dirt and mud off his shirt and trousers when a high-pitched shriek suddenly made him look up.

There, above his head, a creature with the body of a woman and the wings of a bat was diving into a crowd of screaming people. More shrieking and screeching filled the air, but it wasn't human. With a quick glance up, he could see more than one winged creature flying over the city. Men and women were running in his direction, away from Camelot.

"What is going on?" he cried to a maid who was hurrying pass him.

"It's all the creatures that turned into stone, Sire," replied the young woman, panting. "They've returned to life and now they are taking their revenge on Camelot."

"Where's Prince Arthur?" he asked.

"I don't know, Sire," she cried. "I'm sorry, I must flee…"

She gathered her dress around her knees and she took off.

"I'm not a _Sire_!" he called after her.

But then he remembered that he was wearing one of Arthur's white laced shirts.

Without any further thought, he ran into the city, elbowing his way through the crowd. He took all of the shortcuts that he could think of to get to the citadel as quickly as possible. Two times he had to duck out of the way of a band of bellowing gargoyles and a horde of angry harpies. He even saw a griffin land on the roof of one of the castle's towers, just above the court physician's chambers.

It was going to take more than a few spells to free the city, he realised, but his priority was first and foremost to find Arthur and make sure that the prince was well protected. The inevitable question after that was whether or not he could use his magic in front of all of those panicked people.

As he reached the courtyard, he saw that the sky was filled with grey dragon-like creatures: wyverns. The vicious monsters were circling around a target, gathering to strike. And then he saw him – _Arthur_ – running across the courtyard, unchecked and unprotected.

He saw the wyverns aim at their target, but he still had time to reach him first. Rushing forward, he leaped out of the shadows and jumped at Arthur's back, pulling him down just in time to avoid being snatched by the wyverns.

The prince landed on the ground face forward with a clatter and a moan. He then twisted around and his look of pain became one of shock.

"Merlin!" he yelled.

He couldn't help it; he was grinning. "Missed me much?"

Both he and Arthur struggled to their feet while the wyverns were screeching ferociously above their heads.

"How the Hell did you get out of there? We haven't even figured out how to get _in_!"

"Shouldn't you be worrying about all of _this_?" Merlin asked shrewdly while gesturing towards the flock of angry creatures.

"Gwaine said you would know what to do!" Arthur said irritably. "Our swords are no use. That's why I came out here to find this." He lifted a blacksmith's hammer to Merlin's face.

Merlin frowned. "A _hammer_? Against wyverns?"

"No, to get you out of the cave, you idiot!" burst out Arthur.

"Well, unless it's a _magic_ hammer, which I very much doubt…"

Instead of replying, Arthur wheeled around and threw the hammer at a flying gargoyle that was diving in their direction. The tool it the creature square on the head causing it to writhe in pain and then to speed upwards towards the group of wyvern. The screeching seemed to intensify up above. The monsters were preparing to strike.

"_Merlin_! Arthur! Get your asses over here!"

The prince and the manservant did not need telling twice. They ran up the stairs side by side until they reached the main gate. There, under the shelter of the stone archway, Merlin was greeted by a brotherly hug from Gwaine, then Lancelot, then Percival, then Leon and finally Elyan. All of them were happy to see him, but they had also drawn their swords and they were eyeing the courtyard with apprehension.

"I knew that if Arthur was in danger, Merlin wouldn't be too far away," Elyan said smartly. "You, my friend, are full of surprises. How did you get out of that cave?"

"I had help from a… friend," Merlin said softly, thinking of Freya.

"Those wyverns aren't going to be much of a problem for you, right?" Gwaine said with a smirk.

"What is that supposed to mean?" said Arthur in a high-pitched voice.

Merlin's eyes met Gwaine's, and the knight winked at him. "We're old friends," the young warlock said elusively.

Lancelot seemed less convinced. "If you're thinking about how you killed the griffin, I'm not sure it's going to be enough for all of them."

"No, it's something else," cut in Merlin.

Already, he could feel Kilgharrah's presence growing in his mind. The Great Dragon wasn't far away, waiting for his command. With a pang, he remembered the huge emptiness that he had felt on the moment when magic had left the world and the creatures of magic had turned into stone. True, he had been dying himself, but he could still feel the great loneliest that had swept over him then. That painful memory was going to stay with him forever.

He detached his glance from the courtyard to lean back against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes, allowing himself to feel the overflowing power of the Old Religion roaming freely in the streets of Camelot. These creatures in the courtyard, flying over the towers of the citadel or crawling in the lower town, they were his kin. He had never felt so close to the realm of magic as he was now. He couldn't just kill them; he was _one of them._

"What's your plan, then, sorcerer?" Arthur sneered.

Merlin's eyelids slowly lift opened. "I have one, but you're not going to like it."

"Your plans are always terrible."

Merlin grinned. "Likewise."

Though he was trying to hide it, Merlin could see that the prince had drops of sweat on his forehead and he was breathing heavily. Arthur's greatest quality, it seemed, was how deeply he cared for his people. But now they were suffering and the prince was restless.

He shook his head, peering into Merlin's face as though the answer was written there.

The prince took a deep breath. "Is this the part where you tell me that things are not as hopeless as they look?"

"Not today," muttered the young warlock. "Today is the day that I tell you that magic has always been on your side, whether you like it or not."

Arthur chuckled. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"You don't know how many times…"

"_Shut up_, Merlin," muttered the prince. "You can't be an arrogant, pompous _prat_ because… well, that's _me_."

"This is supposed to be my moment of glory, not yours," Merlin replied with a playful grin.

"Hate to break up the playful banter," Gwaine suddenly cut in, "but wyverns and other matter of dark creatures are attacking Camelot. We could really use the help of a dragonlord right about now."

Merlin swallowed.

"_Dragonlord_," choked Arthur. "Now wait a minute! Merlin may be a sorcerer, but a dragonlord…"

He stared at Merlin, his eyes suddenly wide in shock.

Only Gwaine looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Where did you think that dragon came from, _princess_?"

"Is there anything else you're not telling me, Merlin?" the prince growled. "Are you a fairy as well?"

The young warlock heard the comment, but he wasn't really listening. He was walking down the stairs into the courtyard with his eyes turned upwards, fully aware of the many pairs of eyes that were fixed on him. He felt the deep rumbling inside his soul and then his voice rang out, bellowing to the monsters overhead.

"_Dragons_!" he called in the old tongue. "_Calm your fury and return to your realm. I am one of you! I am a dragonlord and a master of the Four Elements! Such is my command now: give Camelot a chance to rise above the hatred and the darkness. Hear my plea and do not destroy hope for it is here and now. Go! Be at peace_!"

As he finished his speech in the old tongue, he saw the outline of Kilgharrah over the towers of the citadel. The mighty beast gave a loud roar and the wyverns gathered at his tail, following their superior cousin into the sky. Soon the other creatures could be seen leaving the city and vanishing in all directions, returning to their lands, just as the young dragonlord had commanded them to.

When the immediate danger seemed to have disappeared, he saw the silhouettes of Arthur and the knights running towards him. He knew that he was panting from the effort – reaching out to the deep magic had required a lot of his strength – but still he greeted his friends with a wide and sincere smile.

"That… _dragon_," cried out Arthur, pointing at Kilgharrah. "Is it… _the_ Great Dragon? You told me I gave it a fatal blow!"

"Well… err… _dragonlord_," Merlin breathed out.

Merlin could see that Arthur was going to throw one of his royal fits, but Gwaine and Lancelot were quick to react. They both pressed their hands on the prince's shoulders and then pointed at a crowd of guards and members of the court that were now pouring into the courtyard.

"Obviously, this is going to take some getting used to," said Gwaine almost seriously. "But for now, if we want to keep the magic a secret, we'd better get this one inside."

Before he could even begin to protest, Merlin was being stirred into the castle by Arthur's knights while the prince was glancing back at him, fuming, but otherwise surrounded by a crowd of admirers.

Merlin had saved the day once more, and now Arthur was getting all the credit. Some things, it seemed, were never going to change.

_Just a typical day in Camelot._


	25. Merlin gets what he deserves

**Author's note:**

**Ok this is it: the final chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

**MERLIN: THE LONELIEST HOUR**

**Chapter 24: In which Merlin gets what he deserves **

Over the next couple of days, his most difficult task was getting accustomed to his new duties as physician's apprentice. His routine was significantly changed and he was spending much more time with Gaius than with the prince. It was only for a short while, though, because soon he would be accompanying Arthur on every possible errand. He would be watching the regent and his knights like a shadow. He would have to make sure that they were in perfect health and fit for battle at all times. Far from displeasing him, his new position was giving him access to a wide variety of excuses to sneak out whenever he felt like it, and to spend as much time with the knights as he wanted.

So collecting herbs had become synonymous to 'find out what Gwaine is up to', which usually meant that he was going to end up at the tavern and drink way too much ale.

Spending time with Gwaine was also the best remedy to uplift his mood. The tricky part, however, was leaving him after only one drink.

"Why are you getting up? It's not time to go yet!" said the knight, outraged, as Merlin rose from his seat after a particularly succulent dinner at the Rising Sun.

"Unlike you, _Sir_ Gwaine, I still have things to do before I go to bed, like mixing a sleeping potion for Sir Geoffrey and catching up on my basic anatomy." He felt himself blush instantly. "_Reading_! I mean, _reading_! And I have to get up early to make sure Arthur eats his oatmeal."

Gwaine had managed to contain his amusement until then, but at the word "oatmeal" he simply burst out laughing, which caused several of the more drunken men to stare.

"Oatmeal! What are you, his _mother_?"

Merlin considered the idea. "No, definitely not related."

Then suddenly, Gwaine leaped out of his seat and jumped at his neck, hugging him and patting on the back as though they had not seen each other in ages.

"I've missed you, Merlin," the knight said tearfully. "And Arthur's missed you too even if he pretends otherwise."

Merlin grinned a little uneasily. "That's enough ale for you, my friend," he muttered.

But Gwaine aimed a scolding finger at him. "Don't - _ever_ - die - again."

And then he staggered, stumbled on a stool and fell flat on his back, laughing his heart out as he did.

"I see you're having a 'drunken Gwaine' moment," said a voice behind Merlin's back.

The young warlock did not need to turn around to know that it was Lancelot. The knight pressed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, "We need to get him to ride. Arthur wants to meet us at the Round Table, and sooner than later."

Merlin glanced quickly around. Lancelot was wearing a black coat, clearly hoping to melt into the crowd and into the darkness of the night as well.

"Any idea what it's all about?"

"No idea," Lancelot said softly, "but I didn't come here to fetch Gwaine. Arthur specifically told me to find _you_."

"What have you done now?" Gwaine asked a little too cheerfully as Lancelot pulled him unto his feet.

Merlin merely shrugged. By now, he was used to being Arthur's favourite topic of discussion. It was a little annoying to be the only source of information concerning anything to do with magic, while at the same time being "absolutely forbidden" to use his powers under "no circumstances whatsoever", as the prince had put it. Moreover, now that his magic was no longer a secret to Arthur and the knights, the door was wide open for all kinds of awkward questions that he was finding harder and harder to dodge off. It was one thing for them to know that he was a dragonlord, but to tell them about his father... However he knew that he could only manage to avoid certain topics for so long. Soon, the regent would demand answers that he wasn't sure he could deliver them without making it sound like magic was behind everything bad that ever happened to Arthur and the people of Camelot. Above all things, he needed to keep Arthur convinced that magic could be used for good, which wasn't going to be an easy task.

"Are you coming or not?" Gwaine said, punching him on the shoulder to bring him out of his reverie.

Lancelot had brought three horses and spare cloaks so that they could ride out fairly unnoticed. Merlin immediately recognised the black cloak that had been given to him by the druid chieftain Iseldir. Reluctantly, he swung it around his shoulders and felt the familiar weight of the heavy material.

His changing mood had not escaped Lancelot. "Arthur understands why you kept it a secret," he murmured. "You did it for Camelot. We owe you our lives. The only reason that the city is still standing is because of you. The Lady Morgana would have killed us all."

He did his best to keep his eyes on his horse's saddle. "He doesn't _trust_ me, Lancelot. He looks at me like I'm..." He let his voice trail off. "I don't know. _Different_. Magic is who I am. I _can_ hide it, but it will always be a part of me. But he looks at me like I'm dangerous or something. I'm not a traitor. I'm not like Morgana."

"What you are is what you do, Merlin," said Gwaine when they were all three of them seated on their horses.

"Gwaine is right," Lancelot agreed eagerly. "None of us wanted to go into that cave to face Morgana, but you did. You're the bravest of us all."

Gwaine pulled his horse closer to him. "Do you want another hug?" he said playfully.

His only reply was to send his horse forward, taking the lead. He knew that he ought to ignore his own dark thoughts. Kilgharrah had said that many things were changing now, and his new status was the proof of it. But he hadn't figured out his place yet. He was already the prince's closest friend, the physician's apprentice, the last dragonlord, the elusive Emrys, a wielder of the Four Elements and a sorcerer of the Old Religion. Could he be all of that, protect Arthur and keep his magic secret on top of everything? That seemed like a very heavy burden indeed for someone as insignificant as he was, a mere peasant boy from Ealdor. The subtleties of the court eluded him. Agravaine was watching his back even more closely than Arthur was, for some obscure reason. Overall, he wasn't sure how much more pressure he could take.

As his thoughts grew darker, so did the road ahead. Their horses were getting nervous.

"We're almost there," said Gwaine as his horse came to a halt. "Good thing too. I need a drink."

Lancelot and Merlin both shot him a look.

"A drink of water!" cried out Gwaine at once.

"It's getting late," said Lancelot, returning to the topic at hand. He turned to Merlin. "We could use some light."

"You do know that Arthur has forbidden me to use magic, right?" he let out between clenched teeth.

Gwaine was grinning very annoyingly. "That's never stopped you before."

But something else was on Merlin's mind now: a low pulse, a new presence in the deep magic. It was calling him, drawing him. The young wizard closed his eyes to try and get a better sense of the pulse. It was so familiar. It wasn't a spell or an enchantment; it was something much deeper, like a spirit or soul of something close to him. _Someone_. He did not share such a deep connection with anything else in the world except Kilgharrah and Freya. _But this..._ It was someone new. Someone shrouded in light. Someone like... Could it be _Arthur_?

His eyes snapped open, his mind racing to find the meaning of what he had just felt.

Another presence beside him made him jump.

Lancelot was peering into his face. "Are you all right? You had a far off look. Did you just _see_ something?"

"What do you mean by _see_?" Gwaine inquired a little edgily. "Could you _just_ be a sorcerer and dragonlord? You just keep getting weirder and weirder!"

Merlin smiled. So he was feeling Arthur's presence, using just his magic. Maybe the connection that Freya had conjured was still there. He wheeled his horse towards the path, suddenly filled with excitement at the thought of his new power. The low pulse was almost like seeing with his mind instead of his eyes. It didn't matter that it was getting dark; he had a beacon to guide him.

"We don't need light," he said to Lancelot and Gwaine. "Just follow my lead!"

He sent his horse forward without even the slightest doubt about which way to go. Lancelot and Gwaine followed him closely. As he kept his mind fixed on the thread of magic, Merlin also had the growing impression that the horses too were following something unseen. They rode about two hours in the complete darkness without so much as getting nervous. When finally the three men touched ground, they had reached the old ruin without as much as a scratch on their cheeks.

"Is it just me," Gwaine began to say, "or were the trees actually parting to let us through?"

Merlin clapped him on the back as he passed. "Very astute for a drunken man," he said playfully.

He didn't hear the reply or the laughter that followed. He rushed into the crypt, still guided by the pulse of magic and the aura of light that was Arthur Pendragon. As soon as he saw him, a murderous look on his face, Merlin knew that he was in trouble. Yet he didn't really care. He was simply delighted by his discovery and he felt as though nothing could dampen his spirits.

"Where the Hell have you been?" burst out the regent, rising from the Round Table.

Merlin strode to his side, quite impervious to the prince's scolding tone. Without further ado, he took hold of Arthur's wrist and began to examine it with as much interest as Gaius when he was examining a curious new infection.

"Incredible! I can't believe that you still have it," he let out in a breath.

Suddenly he noticed that Arthur was dangling something right in front of his face: the small wooden dragon wing on a leather string.

"You mean this?" asked the prince.

Merlin released the wrist, feeling a little awkward. For the first time since arriving at the crypt, he actually realised how many people were present. In addition to Gwaine and Lancelot, he could also see around the table Sir Leon, Elyan, Percival, Guinevere and Gaius. Gwen was sitting to Arthur's right and she smiled widely at Merlin when she saw that he was getting embarrassed. Gaius was eyeing him with a grin as well.

"I told you all he was getting weirder," said Gwaine as he slumped on a chair next to Percival.

"I was led here by the connection that Freya placed on him, that's all," muttered Merlin under his breath.

"Definitely qualifies as _weird_," said Elyan, smirking.

Merlin let himself drop on one of the chairs around the Round Table, crossing his arms on his chest, feeling a little annoyed.

"It's not _weird_. It's magic. The amulet is magic too. _Protective_ magic. You should all be happy that he's got it."

"Maybe I don't need it," offered Arthur, although he was clutching the necklace tight in his fist.

"Why don't you give it back, then? Maybe it means something to me."

"Does it?" Arthur took the wooden wing higher so that all could see it. "Looks like a child's play thing. Do you want your toy back, Merlin?"

"You shouldn't say that..." But he held his tongue and swallowed hard instead. It was bad enough that he had broken the wooden dragon his father had given him in half to make the two amulets. Did he really have to endure being ridiculed as well?

"That's enough," Gwen suddenly cut in. "Can't you see it's bothering him?" Then she seemed appalled by her bold comment. "I mean... _Sire_... Don't we have something to discuss?"

"Guinevere is right," said Arthur, smiling warmly at her.

He stuffed the amulet into his pocket and Merlin started to breathe again. They were all sitting around the Round Table now and Arthur stood up to address them very solemnly.

"We are gathered here today..."

Gwaine half-raised his hand and snorted. "You forgot to say 'dearly beloved'."

Both Elyan and Percival burst out laughing, but Arthur ignored them. "The topic that brings us here is..."

"Is this about Merlin again?" Gwaine interrupted. Holding back an outburst of laughter, he added, "What did he do this time?"

Watching Arthur's face turn instantly red was priceless. "Will you just _shut up_?"

Silence fell around the table, though it was punctuated by a few giggles. Gwaine coughed a small "sorry" while the other knights were trying hard to look concerned.

When he felt that he had everyone's attention again, Arthur leaned forward on the table. There was something a little odd about the way he was staring right into Merlin's face...

"As far as I can tell, Merlin's magic remains a secret," said the prince in a serious tone. "I didn't want my uncle –Lord Agravaine – to find out, and so far he's given no sign that he knows. We want to keep it that way." His eyes flashed warningly at his former manservant and then in the direction of the physician.

Gaius' glance rose to meet Arthur's. "We don't quite trust him," he said to the benefit of everyone else.

"I have... reserves," acknowledged the prince. "And so does Gaius. Agravaine is a man of politics and alliances. I'm not like that. I will not have the kingdom torn apart."

While Gaius nodded approvingly, the others seemed a little lost.

"This is still about Merlin's magic, right?" Leon asked.

The prince seemed to hold his breath in apprehension. "Actually, this is about Merlin in general. I need to ask him a question and I want you all to hear it. No more secrets."

To everyone's shock, Gwaine rose from his seat. "Is this going to become awkward? Because I'd rather just leave..."

"No!" burst out Arthur, seriously annoyed. "It's not _awkward_. It's personal and it could... potentially determine the fate of the kingdom."

Everyone around the table gasped in surprise, and now Merlin felt so nervous that he could feel the sweat on the back of his neck.

"You should just ask, Sire," Gaius said softly.

"Right." Arthur straightened up. "Merlin, do you know who Lord Henrick is?"

Merlin's mind raced to the old books that he had once held, books containing pages and pages of names and family trees. He had once copied letters of nobility for Lancelot from such a book.

"He's... your grandfather, isn't he? On your mother's side. Agravaine's father. Sorry... _Lord_ Agravaine."

Arthur nodded. "You do know that a male heir, as opposed to a woman, as a much stronger claim on the throne. Even an _unacknowledged_ male heir..."

Merlin felt at that moment as though his heart was going to stop. "Is this about my father?" he mumbled weakly. When Arthur did not answer, he knew that he had guessed right. "Then you needn't worry," he said with as much conviction as he could muster. "He's wasn't a noble. He wasn't even... He wasn't important. He was nobody."

"Your mother never told you about him," Arthur insisted.

"No, not my mother. Listen, I don't understand where you're going with this. You obviously have something on your mind so spit it out."

"You can't talk to him like that!" let out Sir Leon, outraged.

Remembering something from a few years ago, Merlin smiled slyly and said, "I'm sorry. I mean 'spit it out, _my __Lord'_."

Arthur banged his fist on the table, making everyone jump. "Merlin, this isn't a joke! Agravaine is just waiting for the right moment to let out what _he_ knows about you. But it takes two parents to make a suitable heir. If Agravaine finds out that your father has the tiniest drop of noble blood – not to mention the magic – he could tear this kingdom apart. All of those who oppose my father's laws will side with him and we will go to war. Now who is your father?"

He had let out the whole speech in a breath. Merlin's hands were clutching the side of the stone table. He had no choice. His voice trembling, heart pounding, he said: "Balinor."

Silence fell around the table again, but this time it was heavy with anticipation. Merlin searched Gaius' glance for support, and he found his old mentor looking at him with immense fondness and pride.

"The _dragonlord_," Arthur breathed out. "Of course."

Merlin fought hard not to blink. "I don't know much more about him than you do. If you know something, you should tell me now. But you shouldn't go on about my parents. My mother is just a peasant woman from Ealdor. You've seen that village. It is a poor place…"

But Arthur didn't even look as though he was listening to what he was saying. His expression had turned from shock to complete dismay.

"They were not married," Merlin pressed on. "They were not even together for long. I didn't even know his name until Gaius told me about him. What could it possibly have to do with Agravaine?"

Arthur was still looking at him as though he was seeing him for the first time. "_Merlin_… Balinor _died_… in your arms. You never said anything."

The young dragonlord could feel all eyes on him, so he tried to remain stern. "You couldn't find out. It was the price to pay."

The prince was shaking his head. "How could I not see this?"

"Because you're a self-centered _prat_," cut in Merlin, smirking. When he realised that Arthur was still staring sheepishly at his hands, he added, "Believe it or not, keeping secrets isn't as fun as it sounds. Nor as easy. Especially if you're a terrible liar. At the end of the day it's just…" He half-closed his eyes, thinking of the correct word. At last, he just said, "_lonely_."

Silence fell between them and Merlin suddenly felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was not really his magic or what he was that was important at this point; it was the pain of years of loneliness that was being thrown into sharp focus. It was on his face now for all to see. _No more secrets_, Arthur had said. Those three words seemed to hold the hope for the entire world in them.

"Well, I'm glad that's out of the way," Merlin said a little more cheerfully than what he had intended.

His glance met Arthur's and a silent understanding seemed to pass between the two of them.

"So am I," the prince said softly.

Sir Leon shifted on his seat. "Can we go back to the part where Agravaine is going to tear the kingdom apart? Because I'd like to know how it's _not_ going to happen now."

Arthur sat down and began to stroke his chin. "Agravaine knows only half of what we know," he said. "We have to make sure he doesn't find out more."

Merlin felt a bit at a lost. "Find out _what_? What half does he know exactly?"

Arthur gazed at him meaningfully. "That you have noble blood."

As always, his first reaction was to turn to Gaius. The old physician always seemed to know more about him than even he did.

"Gaius?"

The physician leaned forward, joining his hands on the stone of the Round Table.

"Merlin, it never occurred to you how it is quite a strange name. _Dragonlord_."

Merlin shook his head. Gaius leaned in closer, enunciating as clearly as he could. "Dragon. _Lord_."

The young warlock almost fell out of his chair. "_Lord_… W-What?"

"I'll be damned," whispered Elyan.

"I'm not surprised," said Lancelot. "I always knew there was something about you, Merlin."

Leon seemed even more confused. "But… I thought this was about Lady Hannah."

Merlin's mind was spinning with too much information. He was only jus starting to assimilate the fact that he was of noble blood.

Arthur turned to each of the people around the table. "Agravaine doesn't know that Merlin is a dragonlord. That's the half that we must keep secret. The other half – the part that concerns Lady Hannah – that is where our challenge is going to be."

"I think we can manage," said Sir Leon, smiling fondly at Merlin.

All eyes turned to the young warlock again.

"I don't understand," he burst out irritably. "I have no idea what you're all talking about. Who is this Lady Hannah anyway?"

Before anyone could reply, however, he saw Arthur rise from his seat and stride towards him. When he was standing next to him, the prince pressed a hand on his shoulders, grinned widely, and said in his best matter-of-fact tone,

"_Merlin_. You're my cousin."

**THE END **

**A final word from the author: **

**Yes, this is the end. If you read my other stories, you know that I like to end with an opening statement. It's like my signature. But it doesn't mean sequel! **

**Please please please drop me a review and tell me what you thought of the story. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. That's kind of the whole point of fanfiction, isn't it?**

**To all of my readers, reviewers or not, THANK YOU! I love you all!**

***** gets up to go and watch Merlin: Season 4*****

**HighEmpress**


End file.
